


The Sky Pirates

by FinduilasLissesul



Series: Steampunk Adventures [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Dismemberment, M/M, Plot Twists, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-02 13:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FinduilasLissesul/pseuds/FinduilasLissesul
Summary: Francis finds himself a prisoner of a group of sky pirates. He's forced to join their adventures and the people he meets alnog the way are going to change how he looks at the world. It requires teamwork only to get out of it alive, and Francis manages to make a mistake that will cost him dearly.





	1. A Stranded Stranger

The air was hot and the wind barely blowing. As far as you could see there were bright red sandy cliffs and not a cloud in the sky. There wasn’t a single soul out here in this desolate landscape. Not even animals or birds could be heard, but if you studied the rocks carefully you could occasionally spot a lizard or a snake. The cliffs were bare save for a few twig-like bushes craning out from cracks and fractures. 

The ship slowly flowed through the air and found its way past the red cliffs raging high above and ending in the depths below. The airship above held up the vessel, and despite the fact that it was huge, it was easy to manoeuvre and took those sharp turns with grace. 

On the deck, leaning against the railing, stood the captain of the ship. Lazily studying the scenery with a cup of tea in his right hand and a spyglass in the other. His dirty blonde hair barely moved in the slow gust of wind. The rest of the crew was just as relaxed as their captain today, loitering around and chatting or busying themselves with other activities. Being a pirate was not always robbing and killing all the time after all. 

Sipping slowly on his tea, the captain continued to stare at the landscape with cliffs on both sides of his ship. It was truly elegant the way the vessel moved through the passage. Of course, they’d be vulnerable to an attack in this place, but at the same time not a lot of people knew about this passage and that made it a terrific hiding spot. 

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a faint shout. The captain put down his cup and paused. Had he imagined it? Surely there could not be people out here in the desert? A second cry, and when he felt the crew still behind him, he knew it was not his own imagination. When the cry sounded for the third time, everyone got up on their feet and hurried over to their posts. The captain barked an order to be quiet and proceed with caution. It could be a trap for all they knew. 

Slowly, the ship turned around another set of cliffs and the crew got a clear view of the narrow passage in front of them. At first, they didn’t see anything, but then someone spotted a small figure straight ahead, grabbing onto the rocks on the cliff and was waving at them. It was at least a couple hundred meters down to the bottom and about the same to the top, and yet it seemed that person had managed to get stuck at that exact spot with no opportunity to get either way.

As the ship got closer and closer, the crew became more and more at ease. It became apparent that no threat was imminent and some of them even began chuckling at the properly dressed gentleman in front of them. The ship came into a halt only a few meters away from the man in distress, and the captain resumed his position leaned against the railing, now studying the gentleman in front of him. A smirk took shape on his face as he leered. 

“Greetings, my good man. You seem to be in a slight distress, is something the matter?” The sarcasm was heavy in his sharp voice and the grin never left his face.

The unfamiliar man huffed in a slightly distressed manner. His golden hair was in a sweaty disarray and what looked like a normally proper suit was dishevelled and dirty from all the sand. On his back, he had a winged contraption. Obviously, that was what had gotten him in this situation. His blue eyes pierced the captain as he spoke.

“Oh, what could possibly be the matter? I was just enjoying looking straight down into my certain doom before you showed up, but no, I’m fine.”

“Well, I’m sorry to rain on your parade, love, but if you haven’t already noticed…” The captain was still smiling as he gestured to the huge airship above the ship, which had a large jolly-roger on it. “… we’re pirates.”

“Oh, well that’s a shame then! I guess I’ll wait for the next ship that comes around!” The man tensed up as he yet again answered sarcastically.

“No, no, you got it all wrong, mate.” The captain grinned devilishly. “You got no choice in the matter.”

After hoisting the stranded man aboard, the crew of pirates gathered around to look at their newest catch. The man seemed to put up a brave face, but the nervousness was easily betrayed by his shaking feet and quivering lip. Someone removed the back-pack-wings off his back and held onto them.

“W-what will you do with me, you bastards?”

The captain stepped forth, crossed his arms and examined him with his eyes. He furrowed his honestly huge eyebrows as he was thinking. The stranger was wearing a nicely embraided, sky blue, silk vest over a white shirt with a high quality dark blue jacket on top.

“Well, you look proper enough, maybe we’ll demand a ransom for you.”

“There’s nobody that’ll pay!”

“Then we’ll just sell you as a slave or something.” The captain shrugged his shoulders. “Or we could just throw you over board if no one wants you. It’s not that bloody hard to figure something out.” 

“Ah! W-wait a minute! I’m s-sure we can make some sort of arrangement? A deal? Say, what would you demand as ransom for me?” The man stepped forth towards the captain with frantic movements.

“What? Well, around two thousand silver pieces perhaps?” The captain rubbed his chin in thought.

“I can double that!” The man spoke rushed and the crew began to whisper. “Yes, I’ll double it. B-but only if you take me back to my home. T-to Mirstone. That is where my money is of course.”

“Double?” The captain paused. He studied the man once more as he contemplated the offer. He was quite handsome. The captain grinned. “Very well. Welcome aboard…”

“Bonnefoy. Francis Bonnefoy.”

“Welcome aboard, Francis. Please make yourself comfortable. This will be your home for the next few weeks.” The voice was sugar-sweet and screamed danger to Francis. Then the captain turned around and shouted back at the quarter deck. “Gilbert!”

Wandering out from a door below the deck, came another man. He was dressed in loosely fitting clothes and covered here and there by black grease spots, most likely oil, and on his head, he wore a pair of goggles. But the most noticeable with him was his chalk coloured hair and burning red eyes. 

“Oy! You called?” The man cleaned his greasy hands on a rag that looked just as dirty while he walked towards the crowd. His voice was harsh and cutting. As he reached the group, he became aware of their new guest and raised an eyebrow. “Who’s this guy?” 

“Gilbert, this is Francis. He will be traveling with us for the next weeks. Would you show him around the ship and make sure he doesn’t… do anything? Francis, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt, our mechanic.” The captain made a gesture to the man holding Francis’ wing, to give them to the mechanic. 

“Hey! Why do I have to be the babysitter?” Gilbert growled at the captain as he crossed his arms in defiance, but still accepted the wings. The captain just waved it off.

“Someone has to. And see if you can repair those, will you?” Then he turned around to the rest of the crew and barked orders. “Everyone! Back to post and set course for Irragin. I want to be there by tomorrow night.” The crowd dissembled and the captain began walking towards the head of the ship when Francis spoke.

“And what do I call you?” Francis crossed his arms as the captain turned his attention back onto him. “A bit rude not to introduce himself to his guest, isn’t it?” He cocked an eyebrow. The captain stared intently – almost curious – at him for a few seconds before he answered.

“It’s Captain Kirkland to you.” Then he continued walking, leaving the mechanic alone to look after the guest. 

Gilbert began walking, without another word, back towards the door he had come out of, and Francis hurriedly followed, a bit anxious to be left alone on the ship. He entered through the opening and continued down a short hallway before descending a couple of stairs. Francis had no choice but to come along.

“A-ah, Gilbert? Where are you taking me?”

“I’m not taking you anywhere, I’m going back to work.”

“But weren’t you supposed to show me around?” Francis looked around when at the bottom of the stairs. They were in a more open space now, cannons chained to each side of the wall, and another set of stairs in front of them led further down the ship. The room was lit up by a few lamps near the centre, leading from one staircase to the other. 

“Yeah, supposed to.” Gilbert just continued towards the next set of stairs, showing no interest in Francis. “Like I care what happens to you.”

“Does the captain not like you very much?” Francis frowned, but still followed. At that Gilbert stopped and turned around. However, Francis did not expect the huge grin on his face and a sharp laugh that filled the room.

“No no, I’m pretty sure I’m his favourite. It’s you he doesn’t like.” The mechanic continued chuckling to himself as he reached the next floor. Francis just blinked, but then scurried after.

“Hey! What do you mean by that? I haven’t even done anything yet!”

“Oh, it doesn’t take much to make Arthur dislike you. In fact, I’m sure he dislikes everyone at first and then you have to do something to make him like you.”

“Arthur?”

“Yeah, that’s his first name. He just likes to be intimidating with everyone who doesn’t know him, He has a bit of an ego. Don’t worry, he’s not really close to that scary.” 

“Really?” Francis came to stand beside Gilbert at the bottom of yet another pair of stairs and examined the room. This looked like the machinery, it was full of giant gears poking up from the floor everywhere and was probably where Gilbert worked (and spent the most of his time based on the state of his clothes). Francis found himself pursing his lips. He thought he knew what Gilbert had meant earlier. 

“Yeah.” Gilbert made no move to continue their talk, but just walked over to the centre of the room, where there was placed an old sofa, the original colour almost lost in the dark and oily grease. He flung the wings on the floor before he flopped down on the furniture. Gilbert stretched his legs all over the sofa while he picked up a piece of fine metal and a tool, which remined Francis of a tiny toothpick. 

“So… this is what you do all day?” 

“Basically, yeah.” Gilbert didn’t even look up, but continued to work on the small mechanical… bird? 

“Do you even do anything useful in here?” Francis raised an eyebrow. This was not how he had imagined the pirate-life to be. 

“Sure I do. Just not right now.”

Francis became standing by the stairs just staring at the mechanic, unsure how to proceed. The silence was dragging on, only broken by the turnings of the huge gears, and Gilbert still did not do anything to indicate he was going to assist the newcomer in any way. 

“So… would you care if I left?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“All right, see you later then, Beilschmidt.” 

“Whatever.”

With that, Francis began walking back up all the stairs to the main deck, taking the opportunity to look around a bit. He found the dining room and eating courters, along with a few room with hammocks up on the first floor. He began to get the feeling that if he wanted anything on this ship, he had to find out by himself and not expect any help from the crew. Out on the deck, he found that most of the men were at their stations, manning different levers to steer parts of the ship which was not automatically operated. 

Francis just stood there awkwardly for a few seconds, everyone just doing their own thing, no one even offering him as much as a glance. Unsure of what he even thought he’d do when he got here, Francis looked around. Finally, he spotted the captain standing up front on the forecastle, facing away from him and staring forward. Making up his mind, Francis began to approach him. Only a few steps away, the captain had still not showed he knew he was there, so he spoke up.

“Arthur?”

“What is it?” The captain growled as he turned around, but as he discovered who was standing behind him, he took a small step back as his eyes widened. “W-wha…” Then he frowned. “I told you to call me Captain!”

“Oh, my apologies, Captain Arthur.” Francis couldn’t help but smirk, Gilbert had spoken true.

“What the hell do you want?” Arthur huffed and put out his lower lip as he placed his hands on the hips.

“Well.” Francis smiled. “Since you asked. I would like to know where my quarters will be and also when dinner is, because I’m starving, and-”

He was cut off by Arthur laughing. 

“I think you might have wrongly interpreted your situation on this ship, Sir.” The captain smirked. “You are in fact our prisoner, not guest. My apologies though, I suppose my earlier sarcasm was too hard for you to understand.” 

Francis glared at the man in front of him.

“Then why am I not locked up in a cell?”

“Because you’re literally no threat to us at all. There’s nothing you could do up here that wouldn’t automatically set yourself at a disadvantage. So, there’s really no need for us to lock you up somewhere.”

“Well, I could stick around just to annoy you!” Francis fumed as he suddenly felt ridiculed by the entire crew on this ship. That was why no one even looked at him, and why Gilbert didn’t really care what he did. “Maybe I’ll just hang around to make your world miserable every day, how about that?” 

“If you absolutely insist, I could have you thrown in a cell, you know.” Arthur growled. 

“You are a very unpleasant man, you know that?”

“Me?! Have you met yourself?” 

They were both glaring daggers at each other when they were interrupted by the clearing of a throat a few meters away. Reluctantly tearing away, they both turned to face whoever demanded their attention. The man standing in front of them was a great deal taller than them both and had short brown hair. He looked quite unimpressed.

“Captain, is everything all right?”

“Yeah, everything is fine, Smith.” Arthur sighed. “Was there anything else?”

“Our course is steady and we’ll reach Irragin by nightfall tomorrow if we don’t run into any trouble.”

“Thank you, that’ll be all.” Arthur waved him off and turned back around to stare into the distance. Francis shuffled a bit by his side, unsure what to do with himself, but as the silence dragged on, he cleared his throat and spoke up again. 

“So, ehrm, that was…?”

“You’re still here?” Arthur growled, but made no hostile move towards him, just continued looking out into the horizon. They had finally made it out of the narrow passage and into the flat desert. The captain sighed resigned. “That was my first mate, John Smith.”

“Seriously? John Smith?” Francis struggled not to laugh at the name.

“Yeah.” Arthur cracked a small smile. “He wasn’t my first choice, but shit happens.”

“As first mate?”

“Yes. I originally wanted someone else but… anyway, most of the crew likes him pretty well so…”

“You don’t?”

Arthur made a face.

“He’s all right, it’s just… never mind.” The captain then shot up straight. “Hey! Why am I telling you this? Stop asking all these questions.” Arthur grabbed a hold of Francis’ jacket and dragged him close as he growled.

“Hey! It’s not as if I forced you to answer them!” Francis sneered and stuck out his tongue. Arthur huffed before he let go and turned around to walk away. 

“Dinner’s at four, don’t be late.”

Francis just stood watching as Arthur disappeared into what must be the captain’s cabin. Then he turned his attention to the scenery that flew by. The ship was moving at a steady pace and the tall cliffs of red rocks had moved out of sight, just the horizon was visible along with the ground itself. The sun was still burning hot and Francis felt the need to undo a button on his shirt. This was certainly something he had gotten into. 

After spending most of the hours just loitering around and looking at the crew working, Francis joined them all in the dining room for dinner at four, as the captain had told him to. He took a seat all the way down on the long (and only) table in the dining room. Just before the dinner was served, Gilbert entered and sat down beside Francis. He took the opportunity to whisper as a young boy began serving the crew.

“Does the captain usually not eat with his crew?”

“Sometimes he does, but he prefers to be alone for most of the time.”

“Why?”

“Probably just thinks most of the men here are scumbags. Not me though, of course.” Gilbert grinned and laughed. “Just kidding, he likes the solitude or maybe he’s just tired. Or maybe he’s trying to avoid Peter.”

“Peter?” Francis raised an eyebrow as he got his serving of food.

“What about me?!” The boy serving the food chirped up. 

“Fuck off, Peter. Go play with a rat or jump off the ship for all I care.” Gilbert barked at the little boy, who just stuck out his tongue and returned to the galley. When he was gone, Gilbert spoke up again. “Yeah, him. He’s Arthur younger brother.”

“What?”

“He snuck aboard our ship last time we were in their home city, and he refuses to go home. He admires Arthur quite a lot and won’t stop pestering him. A little brat is what he is, but Arthur let him work as our cabin boy.”

“I see…” Francis went quiet as he tried out the food. It was possibly the worst food he had ever eaten, but no one else seemed to notice anything wrong, so he gulped down the food and sorrowfully prepared mentally for the next few weeks of eating this. With a glance over at Gilbert he saw the man hungrily shovelling down the… food, while he himself could not finish more than half of it. 

After the dinner Francis was shown to a hammock in the sleeping quarters, lying side by side with the pirate crew. Gilbert usually slept down in the engine room, on his sofa, and the captain was the only one who had his own private cabin. He would later discover that Peter slept in a box in the dining room, so he could only consider himself lucky.


	2. Falling Freely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis gets to know the pirates a bit better.

The next day, Francis didn’t wake up before noon and thus discovered he had missed the breakfast with the rest of the crew. He was used to sleep in late, and had never had a problem with that, but now it seemed he’d have to change his bad habit. But with the food he was served here, he might as well continue to oversleep. 

There he lay in his hammock, with only a thin dirty sheet covering him, listening to the voices coming from up on the deck. He was alone in the sleeping quarters; all the other hammocks were empty. Francis dragged a hand through his hair and felt the grease and knots in there, and a sigh escaped him. This lifestyle was certainly not suited for him. 

Slowly easing out the hammock and dressing himself, Francis tried to fix his hair, but ended up just tying it up behind his head. After finally managing to put his boots on, he went for the door. Out in the hallway, he still could not see any of the pirates, so he decided to go out on the deck. 

The sun blinded him as he came up on the deck of the ship. Crewmembers were jogging back and forth, busy with steering the vessel, not even bothered to give him a second glance. The rocky landscape from yesterday had been replaced by valleys with the occasional forest consisting of trees over several hundred meters tall. The air was a lot cleaner, there wasn’t any of that dust that had hung around the day before, and there were even a few clouds in the airspace. But what drew Francis’ attention was the single man standing up front on the forecastle, his long red coat flapping in the wind. 

Once again, he found himself making his way up to the captain to stand beside him. Arthur didn’t pay him any attention, just staring out towards the horizon, just like the day before. 

“Doesn’t it get boring?” Francis leant his side against the railing and peeked over the edge while most of his focus was on the captain.

“Never” The captain smiled to himself. “This is the essence of what it means to be free. No one controlling you or telling you what not to do or demanding things from you.”

“Isn’t that what you do to the crew?” Francis raised a challenging eyebrow as Arthur’s smile disappeared and he glared at him.

“You know what I mean.” He huffed and pulled out a spyglass he began looking through.

“What about the food then?”

“What about it?”

“Doesn’t it make you want to throw up?!”

Arthur growled as Francis had the audacity to act shocked at the revelation. 

“If you don’t like it, you’re free to not eat, you know. You can starve to death for all I care.”

“How cruel! You would let a guest die on your ship.”

“Prisoner.”

Francis huffed, stuck out his lower lip and crossed his arms in defiance. A few strands of his hair had loosened from the tail and flew around the sides of his head. The silence between them continued while both made a point of not looking at the other. In the background, they could hear the first mate shouting commandos at the rest of the crewmembers. 

“What are you going to Irragin for anyway?” Francis mumbled. 

“To get some intel for our next raids.” The captain then hesitated before he continued. “We know a guy.”

“I see.” Francis turned to look at him again. “Don’t you think what you’re doing is a bit… unfair?” 

Arthur let out a sharp laugh at that.

“If you hadn’t noticed, the entire world is unfair, love.” The captain leered at him. “The rules and laws of this world are nothing but unfair, just created by people with power, and only serve to benefit themselves. I’m just doing what I can to survive.”

“And what about killing people?” At this Francis looked down at the wooden deck by his feet. Arthur huffed at the question.

“I only kill those who’d want to kill me.”

Francis didn’t say anything to that, but shifted his view over to the landscape again, still leaning against the rail. At that moment, there came a powerful gust of wind from the side, taking hold of the airship above them, which kept the pirate ship up in the air. Which resulted in the ship cringing hard to the left and throwing those who weren’t used to being in the air off their feet. 

Francis flailed with his arms erratically before he tumbled over the edge of the railing. Arthur, as the experienced airman he was, held his ground and tried to grab Francis before he fell, but failed. Leaning over the rail, he could see his prisoner falling towards the forest several hundred metres below and certain death. He gritted his teeth as he swore loudly and tossed off his long, heavy coat. Quickly sprinting towards the main deck, he kept towards the edge and finally leaped overboard as he reached the middle of the main deck. Some crewmembers shouted at him, but the captain payed them no attention. As planned, he landed in the lifeboat that hung by the side of the ship. With a swing of his sword, he had cut the ropes and the boat was in free fall. 

Francis screamed as he fell through the air. His coat flickered everywhere and he had trouble determining what was up and what was down. The green valleys blended with the clear blue sky and was gradually growing larger. The air flew by so fast it was hard to breathe. The fear of death begun grabbing hold of him. To think this was how his life was going to end. Francis closed his eyes and prepared for the final impact against either the huge trees or the hard ground. 

But the impact never happened. Instead he felt a hand grabbing hold of his coat, and he opened his eyes. In front of him was a very concentrated Arthur, with one hand on him and the other frantically working with the engine on the small boat he sat in. They were both still falling vertically. Arthur violently used one single movement to yank Francis into the boat and straightening it out. A millisecond later, he got life into the engine and yanked a rope towards himself so that the small sail was hoisted up on the mast. Their decent became halted and right before they reached the tallest branch of the trees beneath, they were hovering completely still in the air. 

Francis lay sprawled over in the middle of the boat, still unsure what exactly had happened. When he regained the sense of direction again, the first thing he did was lean over the edge and vomit. While emptying his stomach, he felt a hand grab hold of his head, and when he finished, he was whipped around. Over him, Arthur was towering and his other hand grabbed Francis coat. He was truly terrifying. His wide eyes were screaming murder and his gritted teeth frightened Francis to no end. 

“A-Arthur?”

“You idiot! How the fuck did you manage to fall off the ship?! You shouldn’t be alive, you useless-”

“A-Arthur… please.”

“…imbecile! I thought I was going to die! You cause nothing but trouble! Fucking idiot! I risked my life for your sorry ass!” 

Francis could feel a chill run down his back. Arthur expression was so dark and he didn’t seem to catch anything Francis was saying, just yelling at him. His hold on Francis had become tighter and tighter, shaking him a little bit now and then. Francis could do nothing but scream internally, that’s how scared he was. However, they were interrupted by a loud shout from above. This broke Arthur’s murderous focus, and he looked up.

“Captain! You okay?” Most of the crew was hanging over the railing, but it seemed the first mate was the one who had shouted. 

“I’m fine! Just go ahead, I’ll catch up!” Arthur waved at them as the ship started up again and slowly continued on course. The pause gave Francis time to study the captain, who now was only wearing a white, baggy shirt. Without the red coat and the hat, he looked a lot smaller – both thinner and shorter. His huge eyebrows still made him intimidating though. Francis gulped as Arthur turned back to him again, expecting the worst. But instead, the captain just sat back, leant against the side of the boat opposite of Francis and let out a deep sigh. There was quiet between them a few seconds before Francis dared open his mouth in a meek whisper.

“Err… thank you.” He looked away, focused on the mast in the middle of the boat to avoid looking the man who had saved his life in the eyes. Embarrassment was the strongest feeling he had at the moment. “That was… very… what you did -I mean, I-”

“Save it.” Arthur locked eyes with him and stood up. “You owe me one, it’s as simple as that. I’m not captain of this ship for nothing, you know.” 

Arthur reached out a hand to let Francis grab and helped him up. When both men were standing in the middle of the boat, holding each other’s hand, Francis realized they were about the same height. He also noted that Arthur had very pretty green eyes. Francis had to blink a few times to actually manage to take his eyes away. 

“Now let’s catch up to the others.” Arthur let go of Francis and moved to the back of the small boat, to where the engine was. It was still running – it was what kept the boat afloat, and by sitting down and pulling a few levers, they began moving. 

Francis sat down rather quickly, but on the seat this time, as the boat shot forward. His eyes were glued on Arthur the whole time, contemplating the man in front of him in silence. There was something with him which was almost… admirable. His frame was clearly visible from the wind blowing his shirt close to his body and his earrings of gold swayed back and forth. Arthur’s hair was blowing backwards from the wind and Francis could more clearly see the two huge eyebrows, which were furrowed and-

“What are you looking at?”

“Ah! Nothing! Just-” Francis grinned. “You have really huge eyebrows, you know?”

“You! Fucker! Do you want me to do a bloody loop?! I can drop you off on the closest tree if you want!” 

“Iiik! No! I’m sorry, please continue!” Francis pressed forth a nervous smile as Arthur just huffed and went back to concentrating on flying the boat. Francis continued to watch him, but out of the corner of his eye this time. What he noticed fascinated him. Arthur was remarkably alert to everything around him. As they sailed through the air, green trees flashing by beneath them, slowly catching up to the large pirate ship, Francis decided to voice his curiosities.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you mean? I’m flying the boat.” Arthur raised an eyebrow at the question, not understanding what Francis was talking about.

“I mean…” Francis scratched the back of his head as he paused, wondering how to rephrase himself. “… you look so… concentrated? I don’t know, there’s just something with how you steer the boat, I was just wondering how-”

“Do you want to try it?” Arthur leant forwards, a small smile with a hint of mischief adorning his face.

Francis shut his mouth and stared in wonder at the pirate captain. Contemplating the offer for just a second, he stood up as Arthur slowed the boat and made his way to sit beside the captain at the aft of the small vessel. Francis could feel his heart jump up into his throat when he discovered just how close they were sitting together. Arthur didn’t seem to mind as he let go of the lever he had used to control the boat and motioned to Francis to grab a hold of it. 

“Here, this button controls the speed. You pull it up or down according to your wishes, and then you use the lever itself to control the direction. Have you ever used an outboard motor on a boat? Ah, never mind, probably not. And you have to squeeze here as well to make it move. Anyway, give it a try.” And there it was again. The mischievous smile. It all left Francis with a bad feeling in his gut, but nevertheless, he set the speed – at the very lowest setting mind you – and squeezed the lever. 

It all went quite well the first ten seconds, and Francis actually got his hopes up and began grinning in child-like wonder. However, it did not last. As soon as he had ascended about five metres, a powerful gust of wind came out of nowhere and made the boat cringe forcefully to the left, making Francis yelping and in panic moving the lever frantically about. The boat ended up practically jumping up and down until Arthur placed his hand over Francis’ and guiding his movements into the proper direction. Francis had too hard a time controlling his breathing to actually register the close touch.

“What the hell was that?! I didn’t even do anything, it just happened, I-”

“Yes, I know.” 

“I- I- what?” Francis looked to his right to see a shit-eating grin on the captain’s face, and he wanted very much to punch the man. Glaring back at his and lowering his voice, he spoke in an almost threatening manner. “Explain.”

“Air currents.”

“What?”

“As there are currents in the sea, there’s currents in the air as well. The only difference is that up here it’s more… three-dimensional. The currents appear in layers above the surface, but they don’t always coordinate. The wind can blow from the east in one layer and in the next from the west.”

“So that was what you were doing before?”

“Yes, quite right. On the ship, we use instruments to measure these things and it adjusts automatically, but on this simple boat we don’t have that. With a trained eye, you can notice the different layers in the airspace and adjust your course accordingly. If you’re very good, you can estimate how strong the current is and fly through almost without remarkably changes to the stability of the boat.”

“But how did I not notice the wind changing when we flew through the layers up on the ship?” Francis narrowed his eyes at Arthur. He had begun realizing the pirate only had done this to force him to make a fool of himself – again.

“Because, idiot, we were going at such a high speed that the only wind you felt was the one coming from directly in front of us. Seriously? You know nothing of flying? No wonder you ended up on that cliff back there. How exactly did you manage that?” Arthur smirked at him, and Francis could feel the anger boil inside of him while his face flushed from embarrassment. He growled in retort.

“That is none of your business actually.”

“Oh really? Who was it that so mercifully rescued you and even offered you a ride back home?”

“You basically kidnapped me!”

“You asked for it! It’s your own bloody fault you were rescued by pirates.”

“Yes! I should have just died instead, shouldn’t I?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, Bonnefoy.” Arthur shoved Francis off of the seat and down into the boat again while he reclaimed control of the boat. Francis responded in lightly kicking the pirates leg, receiving the same back. 

“Piss off, Kirkland.”

They both huffed in anger as they closed in once again on the larger ship. The people onboard became clearer and they began hearing chatter from them. Pulling up to the side, Arthur barked a few commands, and soon enough, he received ropes he used to tie the much smaller boat to the ship itself. With a court signal he made Francis grip tightly around the mast before he shut off the engine and the boat banged down into the side of the larger vessel. Arthur paid Francis no attention as he began ascending the ladder made a part of the ship itself. His guest had no choice but to follow grumbling behind. 

When Francis had both feet secured on the deck, the first thing he saw when he lifted his gaze was a small boy running towards them He recognized him as the kid Gilbert had talked to the evening before. The boy’s eyes were wide open and a huge grin split his face in two. 

“Arthur! That was so awesome!” His eyes were basically sparkles and Francis had to snicker a bit as the captain flushed red. So, this was why he didn’t want too much to do with his brother. “You’re so cool! Can you do that with me sometime?” Peter was basically clinging to Arthur’s trousers. At first Francis thought the captain was going to cave in, but then he changed demeanour completely and shook the boy off.

“Tsk.” He turned away from them both and began walking over to the forecastle. “I don’t have time for children, boy.” 

Francis could feel the anger spark in him once more as he took in the back of Arthur walking away and the literally heartbroken Peter standing behind. As Peter turned around to quietly walk back into the ship, Francis felt something explode inside him and he sprinted after the captain. How dare he crush an innocent boy’s dreams like that? When he reached Arthur, the pirate had retrieved his red coat and black hat. Francis gripped him firmly and forced him around.

“What the hell is your problem?” Francis growled at him and tightened his hold on the captain. Arthur just glared back at him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The pirate’s voice was dangerously low, but Francis ignored the warning signs and kept going.

“He’s just a child! You have no business talking to him like that!”

“I don’t remember it ever being your business how I treat my relatives, Francis.” Arthur slowly took a hold of the hand Francis was gripping him with, and with a swift move and a twist, Francis was smashed face down on the deck, with the captain’s knee pressed into his back. “And how dare you speak to me like that? I am the captain of this ship, and you will not disrespect me, city-walker. My orders are final and my words are law on this ship. Don’t think you’re special just because I saved your sorry ass from a certain death. Don’t forget your position on this ship. And don’t ever think you have the right to tell me what to do. How dare you.”

Francis could feel a chill run down his back and the knee pressing down. Cold sweat began forming on his forehead. But still, he refused to back down.

“That is not an excuse, Arthur.” He growled. There was a short pause before the pressure on his back decreased and the grip around his arms disappeared. He could hear Arthur rise behind him and turn to walk away. Francis was about to shout before he heard a low mumble.

“I’d hate for him to become a pirate as well.”

Before Francis could turn around, the captain had disappeared off the deck and was nowhere to be seen. The ship was quiet, everyone busy doing their own tasks. Green forests and hill still passing by beneath the airborne vessel. Francis sat up and his golden locks danced in the wind as he gazed thoughtfully upon the landscape. 

The captain didn’t show up to dinner that day either. Francis took what had become his usual seat beside Gilbert and tried not to gag by the food served by Peter. Which was easier said than done he discovered and settled only for picking out the few bits he was certain what were supposed to be. Like the… mushrooms? Already giving up, and with a sigh, Francis put the spoon down on the table and sagged on the bench. 

“Why is the food here so horrible?” He merely mumbled distraught as he combed through his hair with his left hand. It had been in a horrible state the whole day, no longer the silky soft waves, but rather greasy knots. He sighed once more. A shower was longed for.

“I don’t fucking know, but I’ve had worse.”

Francis looked up in disbelief and horror.

“How can anything possibly taste worse than this?”

“When you’ve lived on the streets, you don’t always get much choice, bud.” Gilbert spoke without a care, as if this was the most natural thing.

“You’ve lived on the streets?” Francis asked carefully, knowing this could possibly be a sore subject, but Gilbert didn’t seem care. He knew living on the streets were not easy in the slightest and felt sorry for the people who had gone through something like that. 

“Of course. Most of us have.” Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him. “Trust me, this food is delicious in comparison to a lot of the shit I had to eat.”

“How…”

“Did I end up here?” Gilbert grinned. “Just happened to beat the crap out of Arthur in a barfight and we’ve been friends since.” He howled out his rasping laugh.

“What?! Just like that?”

“Sure. And they happened to be in need of a mechanic, so I joined.”

“You actually beat Arthur?”

“Hahah, hell yeah! I’m just that awesome.” Gilbert was sporting a face splitting grin as he rubbed his nose. “Trust me, it was not easy. He’s stronger than he looks.”

“And you became friends just like that?” Francis furrowed his brows. How come it had been this easy for Gilbert?

“Yup, and we’re still good drinking buddies.” He winked. “You should come drinking with us tonight! We still need to set up a meeting with our informant, so we probably have the evening off.”

Francis hesitated for a second before he answered. They certainly were not treating him like a prisoner. 

“Ah… sure. If Arthur doesn’t mind.”

“I’m sure he won’t!” Gilbert kept grinning and laughing throughout the meal and Francis felt like he finally had made a friend in this crew of pirates. His plate was deserted in favour for conversation and even the smell of it was quickly forgotten. Gilbert was definitely the loudest person on that ship.

After dinner, Gilbert left to go down to the engine room while Francis walked back up on the deck again. The sky had grown considerably darker, with the sun about to set aft of the ship. Even the gust of wind made him feel a chill – a clear contrast from the environment in the desert landscape the day before. Francis was unsure of the distance they had travelled, but he could guess it was quite a bit. As he stood up on the forecastle, he could see the landscape had changed once more, though not so drastically as from yesterday. The green hills had become taller and morphed into valleys and occasional cliffs, though not the red sandy cliffs from the desert, but moist dark grey cliffs. In some places a small waterfall would come rushing down the sides of the valleys. Francis could tell they were flying closer to the ground now, following the twists and turns of the landscape. The trees were a lot smaller here and scarcer. 

As Francis leant on the railing he spotted something in the distance, and at the same time a yell could be heard from somewhere behind him on the ship. Apparently, they had reached their destination. Tall buildings competed with each other and the warm lights were slowly illuminating the city as the sun went down over the horizon behind them. Francis could even spot suspension bridges between the towering buildings and smaller vessels flying back and forth as they came closer. 

Behind him, down on the main deck, they were busy taking down the jolly roger hanging on the side of the air ship above them as the captain finally emerged from his quarters. After barking a few orders to make sure they sailed into the right harbour, the captain made his way up on the forecastle as well. It seemed that was his favourite spot on the ship, and Francis was starting to understand why. The view was amazing. 

The air between them was tense. Arthur paid no attention to Francis as he came to stand a few metres away from him. It seemed neither of them were ready to forget what happened only a few hours ago. Arthur’s coat flickered in the wind. Francis could still feel the anger inside him towards the pirate but chose to focus his attention on the city they were now only a few hundred meters away from.

At the very edge of the city was the harbour. Large platforms were built out from the cliffs, the very core of the city stood on, like diving boards. Many pipes and ropes were all over the docks, made to hold large vessels in place. Lights were hanging from some of the ropes, casting light on the harbour now as the sun had finally set. It created an almost eerie mood over the whole place. Entirely unintentionally Francis moved slightly closer to the pirate to his right. 

The first mate steered the ship carefully into a dock and workers from the city came forth to help secure the vessel. After a bit of struggling to fasten every rope and activate the machinery to hold up the ship from beneath, they were finally docked. Francis decided to follow Arthur as he walked down from the forecastle, onto the main deck, and further down the gangway to the dock itself. The rest for the crew seemed to get ready to leave the ship: some already walking down the gangway after the captain and others grabbing bags. Apparently only a few were staying back to look after the ship. 

Francis stood close by while Arthur talked to the man responsible for the paperwork on the dock and watched as Gilbert came down the gangway as well. The metallic bird he had seen him working on the day prior was now sitting on his shoulder. With a grin, he raised his arm in greeting to Francis and waited with him as Arthur finished his conversation with the city-man. He had scribbled down what he needed in his notebook and happily walked away with a few more coins in his pocket than when he came. 

Arthur turned around to face his two companions and raised an eyebrow towards Gilbert as he approached them.

“What’s he doing here?” He nodded towards Francis.

“He’s coming drinking with us.” Gilbert just grinned, ignoring his captain’s mood entirely.

“He is not. Gilbert! What if he runs off alerting the authorities? We can’t trust him. He has to stay here.” Arthur crossed his arms and looked sternly at his engineer, still ignoring Francis.

“You really trust these people to look after him?” Arthur frowned. “Exactly. That’s why it’s safer to bring him with us. You can even keep him on a leash if you want.” Gilbert winked at him. Arthur just sneered at him, obviously not happy with the situation. 

“Hey! I’m right here, you know!” Francis crossed his arms as well and huffed at the direction this conversation was heading. “Can you just make up your mind? Am I a prisoner or guest here? And don’t worry… I won’t run away.”

“Oh really? And we’re supposed to just believe that then?” For the first time after dinner, Arthur turned to look at him. 

“Are you saying I could manage to run away from you? That you couldn’t stop me if I tried?”

“W-well… no! That’s not what I’m saying!” Arthur’s face twisted in grimaces as he internally debated the issue. Finally, he gave up. “Fine! Whatever! Gilbert, he’s your responsibility. Now come on, we don’t have all night.” Grumpily he turned around and hurriedly began walking along the dock, towards the city. Gilbert chuckled before he followed, his metal bird moving its head along with him. Francis paused a second as he looked back at the ship they left behind, quickly picking up the pace to catch up with the two pirates. 

When they exited the harbour, they came out onto a street made up by cobblestones and illuminated by lanterns hanging from the buildings. It wasn’t an exceptionally large street, but it wasn’t directly narrow either. There was not a lot of people outside, however they could hear the cheerful shouts coming from inside different pubs up and down the street. The trio followed the road down to the left and continued a few blocks before turning right. The two pirates obviously knew where they were going, and Francis had no choice but keeping close. He could exactly put his finger on it, but this whole town made him uneasy. Something in the air perhaps? The smell certainly wasn’t directly pleasant. 

After walking for about ten minutes, they stood before a small shop crammed between two much larger buildings. It wasn’t a store you would notice if you happened to be in the area. There was nothing particular with it that made it stand out. The front windows were small and not exactly giving away what the shop was selling. On the wooden door hung a plate saying “closed” with small letters. Even that didn’t stand out. 

Arthur walked up the two steps from the street and knocked on the door either way. Then he stepped back and waited. After about half a minute, Francis was getting tired of waiting; there obviously wasn’t anyone there. But just as he was about to voice his complaint, the door slowly creaked open. The person behind it didn’t step outside however.

“We’re closed at the moment, Sirs, but please come back tomorrow.” Sounded a meek voice.

“Even for us?” Gilbert smirked as he answered challenging and took a step forward. Arthur just smiled fondly. Who was this person, Francis wondered? What was going on here?

“Gilbert?” The door opened and the boy behind it became visible. “Arthur?” A smile lit up his face as he adjusted his glasses and stepped forth. His hair hung down to a little above his shoulder where it curled slightly, it had a dirty blond colour, but suited the boy, Francis thought. Well, he wasn’t exactly a boy, he had to be about 19 years or somewhere around that.

The boy descended quickly from the doorway and – to Francis surprise – proceeded to hug the pirate captain. Who was this boy? Arthur returned the hug and when the boy finally let go, Gilbert continued to ruffle up his hair. 

“Have you missed us, Mattie?” The mechanic snickered.

“It’s only been about a month, Gilbert, Matthew know how to take care of himself.” Arthur huffed, and Francis could see how the boy swelled from the indirect compliment. The captain was clearly not a person who let his loving side out very often. The boy – Matthew – laughed quietly.

“It’s always good to see you two again.” Matthew smiled, but then he paused as he noticed the third person. “Arthur, who’s this?”

The captain pursed his lips as his attention was relocated. With a sigh, he answered.

“He’s a guest, I guess… tsk. Matthew, this is Francis Bonnefoy. Bonnefoy, Matthew.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Matthew. Although I can’t say I know who you are.” Francis extended his hand for a shake and Matthew complied. This boy was actually really sweet. 

“Nice to meet you too, Francis. I’m-” He was harshly interrupted by Arthur.

“Matthew. Don’t you want to invite us in?” The pirate smiled as he gestured Matthew towards the shop again. Then he added something in a whisper. “Not here, boy. We’ll take it inside.” Matthew nodded in understanding.

“P-please, this way, Sirs.” Matthew walked up the stairs and motioned for the others to follow – which they did. Francis was the last to walk through the door, taking in the shop as he entered and Matthew closed behind him. It was quite small inside as well, but at least he was able to see what kind of shop it was. There was only one aisle in the shop, but in return there were shelves all over the walls. They were all loaded with different artefacts. Francis could swear he even saw a human skull there, along with medallions, plates, rocks and bones. And still there were more. He wondered what kind of shop this really was.

They were however shown to the back, past the front desk and behind a curtain. The room they then entered was a mixture of a living room and a workspace. There was a desk there by the wall on the left as well as a sofa and arm chairs around a table to the right. The walls were filled with books and there was notes on papers lying everywhere, even on the floor. Matthew sat down on the couch along with Arthur as Francis and Gilbert took the chairs.

“Can I get you some tea?” Matthew politely asked them. Arthur smiled fondly again and nodded. Francis was almost disturbed. That smile was so unlike Arthur. As Matthew disappeared to what was presumably the galley, the captain turned towards Francis and growled.

“So you can be polite if you want to?”

“But of course! Just not towards certain ill-mannered pirate captains.” Francis sneered back at him. 

“Ill-mannered? Me? I’ll have you know I can be perfectly mannered. Stinking city-walkers are an exception.”

Gilbert groaned loudly as Francis was about to come up with another retort but was cut short by Matthew re-entering. With a teapot in one hand and four cups in the other, he sat down again and began pouring drinks for everyone. So, Francis held his mouth shut, if only to be a good guest for this poor boy.

“Thank you, Matthew.” Arthur smiled towards the boy again. Why? Why? Francis could not wrap his head around this new side of the pirate captain. 

“No problem, Captain.” Matthew smiled back. Wait. Captain? How exactly did this sweet boy know these pirates? Francis became none the wiser keeping quiet, so he decided to straight up ask to receive some answers. 

“Excuse me, Matthew? Who exactly are you again?” Francis reached for the cup placed in front of him and took a sip as he raised an eyebrow.

“I’m an archaeologist.” The boy smiled. “Before that I worked onboard Arthur’s ship. I guess it’s about a year or so since I left now, and I’ve been working in this shop of mine ever since, selling the stuff I dig up.”

“You were a pirate?” Francis raised his eyebrows. This was certainly unexpected from the meek-looking young boy. 

“Hey! Watch it, Francis.” Arthur growled at him as he crossed his arms. 

“It’s all right, Arthur.” The boy looked almost embarrassed, but still smiled weakly. “And I guess… there’s one more thing I do as well. Which is why you are here, right?” Matthew looked up at the two pirates, Gilbert just putting down his own cup on the table before he spoke.

“Yeah, there’s that.” He smiled apologetic as he rubbed the back of his neck. “You could come drink with us tonight though, if you want?”

“I think I’ll pass, but thanks anyway.” He chuckled. “I’m sure you can deal with Arthur on your own.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur sound offended, but the others just laughed. Francis curiously wondered the very same thing however. He felt hopelessly out of the loop here. Obviously, they were all close friends, reminiscing the past, but he had no idea what they were talking about. 

“Anyway!” Arthur huffed. “Matthew, you know why we are here. We need to meet with Alfred tomorrow. Preferably before noon.”

Matthew nodded in understanding as he put down his cup. Francis raised a brow. So, Alfred was this informant they had been talking about?

“I’ll make sure he’s on time, Captain. You’ll meet here as usual then?”

“Perfect.” Arthur smiled again. “But it really is good to see you, Matthew.”

“Yeah, he misses you two like crazy! You won’t believe how moody he’s gotten lately. Always locking himself in his room or standing alone up front on the ship.” Gilbert winked at the boy. “Oh wait – he’s always been like this.”

“You bastard, Gilbert! You’re one to talk! You’re only down in the engine room anyway, working your projects.”

“So nothing has changed I see.” Matthew smiled as he put an arm on Arthur’s shoulder. He then directed his attention towards Francis again. “I’m sorry about these two. But they’re really good guys if you get to know them.”

“Ah, erm, I see.” Francis was unsure how to reply to that. Plus, he was a bit taken off guard when Arthur blushed – like really blushed – by Matthew’s words. Francis could feel his own cheeks heat up a bit from the sight. So, a bit of flattery did the trick? 

“Anyway, it’s getting late so we better be on our way.” Gilbert rose from his seat and winked at the boy. “We’ll see you again tomorrow, Mattie.”

“Of course. Have fun.” Matthew stood up as well, and Arthur put down his cup of tea. Francis notes how his pinkie was sticking out and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. All four of them walked over to the front door again and then the trio left with a wave as Matthew closed and locked the door after them. 

On their way back towards the ship, Arthur and Gilbert were scanning the buildings by the street for a suitable pub. Apparently not any pub was good enough.

“Can’t you just pick one?” Francis sighed. Maybe he should have reconsidered his invitation to join them?

“It not as simple as that, Bonnefoy.” Arthur frowned as he walked beside him. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something weird with this city.” At that Francis raised an eyebrow. He had noticed. “We have to be incredibly careful every time we are visiting this city. A few years back there was a pirate who burned down half the town for some reason. And because of that everyone here has an incredible hatred towards pirates – even the lowlifes and pub-owners. If we get discovered here we’re actually pretty fucked. The only reason we ever come here is because of the information Alfred gives us. And even then, we sail in at nightfall and hardly stay longer than one night.”

“Then why risk going to a pub at all?” Francis grimaced. This didn’t add up. Why didn’t they just stay in the ship during the stay?

“Because it’d be suspicious with a ship docking one night and then leaving early just the other day with only the captain ever leaving the ship, don’t you think? Fortunately for us, Irragin has one other thing worth coming a long way for.”

“Yup! The beer here is the best on the west side of the Great Marsh! It’s amazing! I guarantee you; you haven’t tasted anything like it before!”

“Certainly, but we can’t choose just any pub. We make sure the crew scatters over a lot of pubs, so that we have less chance of attracting attention to ourselves. And the louder the pub, the better. Preferably with a lot of people.”

“Capt’n, what about this one?” Gilbert had found one down a side road to the left, the loud shouts reaching them a good hundred metres away. Arthur nodded in confirmation, and so the trio headed down the alley. The sounds only getting louder and louder the closer they came. As they stood outside the entrance they could clearly make out a great deal of drunk people inside.

“This’ll do.” Arthur spoke up before he opened the door and they entered the building.

Inside, there was a clutter of small and big tables with benches and chairs around them, which was occupied by very loud and very drunk people. The bar was at the left side of the huge room they had stepped into, while the tables were taking up everywhere else. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, illuminating the space. 

“Arthur! You go get us beer, and I and Francis will find a table!” Due to the volume inside, Gilbert had to shout to make sure the other’s heard him. 

“Hey! Why do I have to pay?”

“You have more money! Now go!” Gilbert ushered his captain towards the bar before he made his way in between the jungle of tables. Francis followed. After a few minutes of searching, they had found a small table in the corner furthest away from the door. They stole a few chairs from the surrounding tables, which no one were currently using, sat down and waited for the captain to return. The metal bird on Gilbert’s shoulder had begun jumping up and down so Gilbert carefully grabbed it and put it down on the table, where it continued to skip about and occasionally peck at the wood. 

“What’s the bird supposed to do?” Francis studied the machine curiously while he rubbed his chin.

“It’s not supposed to do very much. It’s just my friend.” Gilbert smiled. “I named him Gilbird, and he’s my latest project. You see, I’ve kept experimenting with biomechanics, and he's just some sort of reference. Of course, there isn’t anything biological with him, but I made him to get some kind of sense of how living mechanisms work.”

“Interesting. So, you can do biomechanics?”

“Well.” Gilbert grimaced. “I haven’t actually tried yet, just researched it. I’ve equipped Gilbird with sensors and all those thing, so he’s basically like a living thing right now, but I’m still doing adjustments to him.” The bird turned to look up at Gilbert and give a pip as it moved its wings. Gilbert smiled fondly at it – not unlike how Arthur had looked at Matthew.

“Can he fly?”

“No, not yet. But I’m working on it. The metal is too heavy for Gilbird to lift himself, but I was thinking of adding a jetpack or something like that – if just to give off the illusion of flight.” Gilbert stared concentrated at the bird while he rubbed his chin. “I just need to make some space for it… well, for now he enjoys just staying on my shoulder so it’s not a problem.”

“You fucking had to pick the table furthest away from the bar, didn’t you?” Arthur burst in on the conversation. Approaching the two others, he carried three huge mugs of beer in his hands and placed them down as he grabbed the nearest chair. He was quite red in the cheeks and with sweat pearling on his forehead. Obviously, the heat inside had affected him, and Francis doubted the huge coat he wore helped. “Here’s your bloody beer.”

Both Francis and Gilbert grabbed a mug each and raised it. Gilbert began gulping down the entire thing, while Francis chose to proceed with caution and only took a small sip. And the pirates really had spoken true. This had to be the best beer he ever tasted. Hurriedly, he swallowed more of the beverage before he placed the mug down on the table. Francis observed as Arthur shed his coat and hung it over the back of his chair.

“How do you even manage?” Francis asked the pirate.

“Huh? What?”

“Isn’t it horrible? Being out at with the ship for weeks, and not having the chance to take a shower or a bath?” Francis combed through his greasy hair again. Oh, how he missed personal hygiene. He felt just how sweaty and gross his body had become over just the one and a half days he had spent on the ship.

“What are you talking about?” Arthur almost chuckled while he looked at Francis in disbelief. He had managed to take a few gulps of the beer himself. “Gilbert, you didn’t show him?”

“Hey, I refuse being a babysitter. You can show your guest around yourself!”

“Wha…” Francis followed the conversation curiously.

“Francis, we have a bathroom on the ship, with showers and toilets.” Arthur muffled a laugh. “Plus, I have the same connected to my own room. Really, do you think we’re savages? Come on, we’re not living in the past here. You think I’d want to live with a sweaty Gilbert around? He smells bad enough as it is.” Arthur smirked as Gilbert punched him lightly on the shoulder.

“What?! You mean there’s been a shower there all the time, and I just didn’t know?” Francis was ready to flip. This was just mean! Leaving him to his own misery without bothering to tell him. They really were pirates after all. Horrible pirates. He wanted to smack them both but settled for just sulking with his mug. This seemed to amuse Arthur immensely. 

“Never mind that.” Gilbert patted his shoulder. “You can have a long shower when we get back, but now we’ll drink. Prost.” He held up his mug for a toast. Reluctantly Francis brought his drink together with the two others’. At least the beer was good.

“How many percentage is it in this anyway?” He looked down at the golden beverage. It seemed to be affecting everyone pretty fast.

“About twenty percent I think.” Gilbert rubbed his chin in thought.

“Twenty?!” Francis stared at them both in horror. “This isn’t beer! It must be spirits. No beer has that high percentage.” He’d admit that twenty wasn’t that high, but when it came to beer, it was more than triple of what was normal. No wonder it seemed to work faster than regular beer. He didn’t even taste the alcohol.

“Hahah, that’s just another thing that makes this beer so great.” Gilbert winked. “It’s really easy to get drunk on. It only takes a mug for Arthur to begin stripping.”

“That was one time!” Arthur flushed, and Francis had to muffle a laugh. He could almost imagine the sight. And especially how humiliating it must have been for Arthur, as a captain, afterwards. Thinking of the captain – Arthur had been extraordinary rude, almost grumpy, towards him all evening after that incident with Peter. He guessed he had been hoping to change that after Gilbert told him about the drinks. Francis had to admit that he did feel a bit bad after what happened. Clearly, Arthur had his own reasons, and he really had no business telling him how to do things. He was only supposed to be with them for a about a week anyways. Which, was why he had hoped to turn things around tonight, and hopefully; alcohol would help him, because talking civilized to Arthur certainly wasn’t easy. 

“So, Francis. Why don’t you tell us how you ended up on that cliff there?” Gilbert leant over the table and put up a challenging smirk. Francis paled.

“Ah… well, it’s not very-”

“Come on, twat. Just tell us.” Arthur took another chug at his mug, and Francis huffed.

“Fine. I actually bought those wings from a friend of mine – he’s in the shipping business – and decided to try them out. I thought it might come in handy, as an alternate way of transport. But I might have erm… skipped reading the instruction manual.” Francis stared down at the table in embarrassment. There was a slight pause before the two pirates burst into laughter, almost tripping their chairs. “Come on, it’s not that funny.” Francis growled.

“I knew you were bad at flying, but that was not something I expected.” Arthur dried his tears and calmed down while Gilbert continued howling. Francis just huffed. “You really are hopeless.”

“I didn’t expect it to be that hard! It’s not like I am used to flying! I prefer traveling by train.” Francis turned to face Arthur fully, who was sitting on his left. The captain then put a hand on his shoulder and leant over towards him. He came very close, their bodies almost touching. Francis felt something tingle within his stomach and he cheeks might have heated up a bit. There was something about Arthur that seemed to captivate him, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly what that was. Arthur then slurred out some words.

“Then perhaps I should teach you sometime.” Arthur’s head had become visibly heavy for the man, and he struggled to sit straight. Francis was not exactly unaffected either, feeling the lightness in his body take over. 

“A-ah, maybe w-we should do- I m-mean, it- that- maybe-” Francis stuttered and tried unconsciously to pull away from the captain. 

“Swell! Can’t have you diving off the ship again.” Arthur smacked his shoulder and laughed loudly as he pulled away again. Francis just went quiet as Arthur continued to laugh.

“Arthur…” He mumbled. 

“What?”

“About that incident with Peter-”

“Don’t.” Arthur growled at him, his whole demeanour changing abruptly, his expression darkening considerably. “I don’t want a lecture from you.”

“No, it’s not like that! I-”

Suddenly, Arthur was shoved from the back, his upper chest landing on the table. The surprise was clearly visible on his face, but he used only a second to collect himself. Infuriated, he quickly shot up and turned to face his attacker. The man standing behind him was easily a head taller than him and had a big stomach. The man only then noticed Arthur. Apparently, he had only jolted the pirate by accident, his attention clearly somewhere else. However, with the angry man demanding his focus, he was forced to look at Arthur.

“What do you want, scrawny?” The man only raised an eyebrow, unfazed by the darkness emitting from menacing pirate in front of him. 

“An apology is what I want! What’s your deal bumping into other people enjoying their drink? Don’t you have any manners?” Both Gilbert and Francis had gone silent, paying close attention to the interaction in front of them. This might not end well.

“How about I do what the fuck I want, you-” The man paused for a second as he stared up and down at Arthur. “Hey! You dress awfully similar to a pirate, scrawny!” At the word pirate, several heads turned towards the exchange, and there became a lull in the chatter close to them. But without missing a beat Arthur spoke up.

“And you dress awfully similar to a hobo, but you don’t see me accusing you for anything, fatty!” 

Everyone who had caught the conversation held their breath. For a second the big man was quiet, and then he drew back his arm and punched. Arthur was hit straight in the face and fell. Then, a lot happened at once. Francis caught Arthur right before he smashed into the floor, and at the same time, Gilbert jumped up, punching the guy in his jaw. The man staggered back and the crowd’s attention fell upon Gilbert. 

“Fuck off, dude.” Gilbert spoke dangerously. The big man either knew better than to start a bar-fight, or he was frightened by the mechanic’s strength, either way, he backed off. And slowly, the chatter began to fill the silence again.

Gilbert turned to the other two, seeing Francis kneeling and Arthur lying in his arms, and quickly got over to them.

“How is the bastard?”

“H-he’s fine. He’s just unconscious. But otherwise fine.” Francis looked down at the pirate captain resting in his lap. He was wearing the white shirt from earlier that day, making him look thinner. Was he even eating right? His hat lay discarded on the table and the blonde hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. The right eye was definitely going to bruise, however. “Arthur? Can you hear me?”

“Arthur! Wake up!” Gilbert smacked his captain in the face – not forcefully though, but Francis still glared at him. Fortunately, it seemed to work because Arthur slowly blinked a few times before he opened his eyes fully. 

“Wha…”

“Seriously, Arthur. You need to learn to keep that mouth of yours closed sometimes.”

“Urgh… you’re the one to talk?” Arthur groaned as he moved to sit up, but then he became aware of his position. For a few seconds, he had eye contact with Francis, staring up at him. The first thing that popped into Francis’ mind was how sparkly green the captain’s eyes were. He hadn’t noticed that before. Arthur quickly sat up and with Gilbert giving him a hand, he got back to his feet, stumbling a bit due to the alcohol still in his body. With another groan, he rubbed his head. 

“Are you all right?” Francis dared to ask as he rose from the floor as well.

“Yes, I’m fine.” Arthur spared him only a short glance before plumping down at the table again. His companions did the same. With a quick grab and swing, the pirate captain had downed the last of his beer. The mug had been about half full, so that said something. 

“Careful, Arthur. Do you want us to carry you back to the ship?” Gilbert raised an eyebrow.

“Calm down. I know how to handle my drinks.” Arthur rolled his eyes at him. Gilbert just stared at him in disbelief before he shook his head and turned towards Francis. 

“So, how much do you usually manage? And by the way, don’t believe anything Arthur tells you when it comes to alcohol. He likes to think he can hold his liquor, but he usually can’t. He’s a fucking lightweight.”

“Oh, erm, I can usually handle a bit, but I know when to stop if it gets too much for me.” Francis smirked. “And I presume you can handle a quite a bit? I think you’re the soberest out of three of us at the moment.”

“Of course!” Gilbert snickered. “It’s in my blood. I’m just that awesome.”

“But say, have you been in this city many times before?”

“Mmm, about ten times or so I think.”

“And does he-” Francis pointed at Arthur, who was currently struggling to keep his head up right. “Does he always get this drunk?”

“Most of the time, yes.” Gilbert grinned. “Don’t’ worry, he’ll be fine. Last time we were here he actually managed to start a bar-fight. Luckily, we were only thrown out after we managed to knock out about five people, and no one found out about our… profession.” 

“Really? After all the stories you’ve told me and what I’ve experienced myself I- erm, I mean… Arthur’s quite strong isn’t he? But he certainly doesn’t seem that way now.”

“Hey! I can hear you, you know! I’m not that drunk! Do you want me to beat the shit out of you maybe?” Arthur suddenly perked up from the almost-slumber state he had been in. He rose from his chair and stumbled as he leant against the table. “You think you can beat me, huh?!”

“Arthur, you can barely stand.” Francis chuckled at the display. It was impossible to be afraid of Arthur in this state.

“The fuck you talking about? I can stand!” To prove his point, he shoved off from the table, perhaps with more force than he had estimated, and staggered away from the table. Francis shot up and caught a hold of him before he fell to the floor – again.

“Let me go…” Arthur merely mumbled, but still held Francis tightly. 

“Err, Gilbert, maybe we should head back? I think he’s about to pass out.” 

“Sure, it’s getting late anyway.” Gilbert rose from the table, put Gilbird back on his shoulder and grabbed the captain’s coat and hat. “I’ll take his stuff, and you’ll take him. Let’s go.”

“Huh? W-wait, doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”

“Nope, now come on.” Gilbert glanced at a watch his picked out from his brown leather coat. “Damn, it’s not even one o’clock.” 

Gilbert continued towards the exit of the pub, walking past all the other alcoholics. Francis glared at the fat man who had punched Arthur when they went past his table. He returned the action. Well out on the street, the sounds from inside became muffled again. Until now, Francis had only led Arthur with an arm around his waist, but now the pirate was completely gone and clearly couldn’t even stand up by himself. With a sigh, Francis hoisted the other man up on his back while Gilbert waited. As they continued strolling down the street, Francis spoke.

“Does he get like this every time?”

“Not always. Mostly just when he’s upset about something. But then again, a lot of things upset him.”

They didn’t speak again before they reached the ship. Francis was too busy thinking about ways to apologize to the pirate to even notice they had stepped onto the main deck of the ship. He couldn’t help but think this was all his fault for some reason. Gilbert snapped him out of it as he pointed towards a door and spoke.

“That’s his room there. Here. His clothes. Now good night.” Gilbert waved as his disappeared inside the other door that eventually led down towards the engine room. Francis wasn’t even able to voice his complaints before he had vanished. With a deep sigh, he turned towards the door he’d been pointed at and opened it. He was – to put it mildly – pleasantly surprised by the room itself.

In the captain’s cabin there wasn’t an excessive amount of furniture; the main things were a bed (a real bed) straight to his right from when he entered; a desk a bit in front of him, facing the large window behind; and then another door straight to the left, beside a sofa. Francis closed the door behind him as he stepped inside. The first thing that hit him was the smell. It smelt wonderfully of roses if he was not mistaken. The second thing he noticed was a perhaps excessive amount of book shelves by every wall in the room. So, the captain likes to read, he concluded. 

Francis walked over to the bed and laid Arthur carefully down on top of the covers. The coat he folded and placed over by the desk along with the hat before he went back to take off the captain’s boots. Finished, he sat down on the edge of the bed and breathed out. It had certainly been an eventful day. And the only thing he had managed to get from it was a weird… fascination of the pirate captain. There just was something intriguing with him, which he didn’t quite understand yet. Francis looked down at the sleeping man beside him. He looked very peaceful like that, if a bit dirty. Francis contemplated removing the rest of the clothes on him but decided against it. Reluctantly, he rose from the soft bed and stretched his back before he headed towards the door again. With a hand on the doorknob, he paused. Suddenly he remembered what Arthur had said about a bathroom in his cabin, and he cast a glance over at the other door in the room. That had to be it. Without even thinking more about it, he went for the bathroom instead.

After a refreshing shower and only wrapped in a towel after leaving his old clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor, he entered the main room again. He had tried to dry his hair as best as he could, but mainly he was just relieved it was clean again. Standing in the middle of the captain’s cosy cabin, refreshed, clean, and smelling of roses, going back to the sleeping quarters to lay down in a hammock seemed less and less inviting. Waiting for drunk men to come disturb him in the middle of the night and have to smell their vomit and pee was not at all tempting. But he figured Arthur probably wouldn’t mind him sleeping in here for just one night. With that thought in mind, Francis went to lay down on the sofa with only the towel covering him. And there he fell asleep, listening to Arthur’s soft snoring.


	3. Swords and needles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis finds out more about Arthur's past on the ship.

Francis awoke the next day from loud groans somewhere in the room. It took a few seconds from when he opened his eyes to he remembered where he was and how he had ended up there. He sat up on the sofa, stretching, before taking in the room once more. It looked peaceful in the morning light flowing in from the large window behind the desk. The silence was interrupted once more by a weird sound, and Francis realized it had come from Arthur’s bed. Quickly putting on his trousers, Francis stood up from the sofa and walked over to the bed. Arthur had his head buried in the pillows and had curled in on himself. Carefully, as not to alarm the pirate, Francis patted his shoulder.

“Arthur? Are you awake?”

Quickly, Arthur’s head shot up and stared horrified at his unwanted guest. Clearly, this had not been something he expected to see right after waking up. He was about to say something before he covered his mouth with a hand and retched. Francis observed the shaking man in front of him and couldn’t help but feel pity towards him. After Arthur had collected himself again, he spoke with an uneven voice.

“What. The fuck. Are you doing in my cabin?” Arthur’s eyes moved over to his body. “And why the bloody hell are you not wearing a shirt?”

“Calm down, Arthur. I carried you back here last night and got you into bed. You should at least be thankful.” Francis huffed and looked down at the pirate. Arthur was obviously deeming the situation to be more or less harmless, because he let himself fall back into the pillows as he mumbled. “And I might have used your shower last night.”

“And why are you still here?”

“I slept on the sofa.”

“Why?”

“Have you tried sleeping in a hammock? Those are impossible to deal with, and not at all comfortable.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Arthur switched to lay on his back, his right arm draped over his face. There was a moment of pause before Arthur quietly spoke again. “…Francis?”

“Yes?” He sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Why the fuck does my head hurt this much?”

“Might have something to do with the large amount of alcohol and might have something to do with fact that you took a heavy punch last night.” Francis carefully moved to remove Arthur’s arm. Surprisingly, he didn’t face any resistance and the arm slipped off his face to reveal a very black right eye. He grimaced. Arthur must have noticed because he sighed heavily. 

“Just swell, isn’t it?” He mumbled to himself.

“You have a meeting today, don’t you? At twelve if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah. Fuck me.”

“Then you better get ready, it’s just over an hour till.” Francis looked at the hung-over man curling in on himself along with pillow and blankets. He almost looked like a child. Which reminded Francis of what he had tried to tell him the night before. He studied the groaning heap of a captain a little while longer before he got an idea. Francis quickly rose from the bed and grabbed his shirt from the day before. It was not the most tempting piece of clothing but seeing as he didn’t have anything else to wear, he put it on. The blue coat and vest he left behind as he walked towards the door to the deck. 

“And where are you going?” Sounded barely audible from the bed.

“To get you some food. You go take a shower while I’m gone.”

“Urgh, don’t bother. I probably won’t be able to keep it down anyway. Go wake Gilbert instead, he’s most likely still asleep.”

Francis reluctantly nodded as he closed the door behind him. Well, so much for trying to be nice. The clock was ticking towards eleven when Francis walked down the many stairs to the engine room. He didn’t understand how Gilbert managed to walk up and down here several times a day. Once was enough in his opinion. As he came closer to the bottom, he heard loud snores, nothing like Arthur’s soft ones, and echoing throughout the large room. When he stepped down on the wooden floor, he could see the dirty sofa and Gilbert lying sprawled on top of it. With a deep sigh, Francis walked up to him and began shaking the engineer. 

“Gilbert! Wake up!”

The pirate’s eyes creaked open and he leant up on his elbow to get a better look at the one who had awoken him. 

“Francis? What’s up?” He answered groggily. 

“The Captain is asking for you.” Francis rolled his eyes as he spoke with a bitter undertone. “And also, there’s the meeting at twelve.”

“Urgh.” Gilbert groaned and plopped back down on the sofa. “He’s the captain, he can deal with it himself. Ah, and say hi to Alfred and Matthew from me, will you?”

“W-what? Why me? Am I going today as well?”

“I don’t know? Talk to Arthur about it, I’m going to sleep a few more hours.” Gilbert turned so his back was facing Francis and waved at him over his shoulder, a sign for him to leave. Francis could feel the anger inside him begin to bubble again as he began walking back up all the stairs. These pirates were just treating him as their own personal errand boy today, ordering him back and forth. Up on the deck there were only a few pirates loitering around – some of them visibly hung-over from the day before. What a bunch of ill-mannered bandits, Francis thought. Still bristling over with anger, he smacked open the door to the captain’s cabin with a bit too much force. The door hit the wall and the bang sounded loudly throughout the room. Francis felt a bit ashamed as he heard a yelp from the bathroom and something hitting the floor. He closed the door quietly behind him and called out.

“Arthur! Gilbert is not coming today!”

A string of swears could he heard from the bathroom. A second later, the running water was turned off and after some shuffling, Arthur emerged from the separate room. His hair had visibly been dried because now it stuck out everywhere and water dripped down on his bare shoulders. In fact, his whole upper body was bare. Arthur only wore a towel around the waist. Francis couldn’t help but stare at him. The captain didn’t have an especially attractive body, he was scrawny and his joints stood out. But he was still lean and it showed he had some muscles – something Francis already knew from first-hand experiences. His attention was brought back to Arthur’s face with the black eye and his huge eyebrows, which were pulled together as he stared thoughtfully out in the air.

“Well, I guess that’ just the two of us then.” Arthur rubbed his chin in thought before he turned to Francis. “And do you mind? I’m going to get dressed here”

“Wait, what? Why do I have to come with you?”

“Because I don’t trust you enough to leave you here alone with this crew. Now get out. Wait for me outside.”

Really? Francis didn’t even know if he should be furious or resigned at this point. While his brain screamed at him to argue with the pirate, he simply stepped outside, but he made a point of it to bang the door closed with a force equal to what he had used to bang it open. Hopefully, that’ll display his feelings on the matter. Although, he didn’t actually mind going with Arthur – he’d probably bore himself to death on the ship all alone – it was all the ordering around that irked him. Both Arthur and Gilbert had managed to do it several times already this morning. No more, Francis told himself. No more should he let his… captors? Friends? It was a strange friendship in that case. The point was that he refused to put up with this anymore and decided to make that clear to Arthur after this. And there still was that incident with Peter. 

The door into the captain’s cabin opened, and out stepped Arthur, fully dressed now. Francis had begun wondering if the only reason Arthur wore that coat was to appear bigger than he actually was. When Arthur spotted Francis beside the railing, nodded as he adjusted the hat on his head and walked over. Together, they continued down the gangway and over the dock towards the street again. As they stepped out on the cobblestone, Francis spoke up.

“Won’t people see that you’re a pirate now? I mean, I understand last night, because it was dark and the few people who were out in the streets were drunk. But how about now? Won’t they see that you dress as a pirate?”

“Probably, but most of them will most likely be too afraid of me to actually do something, and we’ll be gone from here by the time any watchers show up. And there’s the fact that Matthew doesn’t actually live in the top-class neighbourhood, so that helps as well.”

“I see.”

“And it might help that you’re with me.” Arthur looked away as they continued down the street from the night before. He was still pale from the hang-over.

“Eh? How so?” Francis smirked. “Does my charm and good looks take all the attention away from you?”

“Something like that…” Arthur glared at him. “Your clothes are more neutral, so you don’t attract weird stares. And I would have attracted more attention had I walked alone.”

“Neutral?! Are my clothes neutral? This is not neutral! It’s anything but! I’ll have you know I paid a great deal for these fabrics. So, you are not allowed to call them neutral ever again.” Francis grumpily huffed at the pirate, who had the nerve to smirk back at him. 

“Oh, so you’re one of those stuck up aristocrats, are you? No wonder you’re such a twat.”

“What?! You have no right to look down on me after all I’ve done for you today.” Francis gritted his teeth and scowled. Unexpectant, Arthur looked down at the stones and a reddish tint appeared in his cheeks before he spoke.

“Err, yes, about that… I- err… thank you. For last night, I guess.”

Francis looked mesmerised at Arthur. The words he had wanted to hear was actually spoken. Was the pirate having a change of heart towards him? For a moment, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his chest swell. Arthur was almost sweet like this – clearly embarrassed.

As they went down the street to the right, as they had the evening before, they passed an ally, which clearly was used as a garbage dumb. At that moment, Arthur retched again, but unlike this morning, something actually came out of his mouth. He became standing leant over against the brick wall to a house, emptying his stomach. Francis felt sorry for the man. He really did. But the only thing he could do for him, was walk up to him and stroke his back. When Arthur was finished and raised his head again, he looked like the walking dead. His face was horribly pale and his eyes hollow. The green in them matt. Not to speak of the bruise around his right one. Francis tried to cheer him up with a smile and an arm around his shoulder, leading him along the street.

“We’ll be there soon, Arthur.”

“Argh, just kill me.”

Eventually, they were standing on the door step of Matthew’s little shop. This time, they just went straight inside, due to the shop being open and all. When they came in, they could spot Matthew sitting behind the counter, reading a book. As soon as the bell above the door rang, he glanced up and put the book down. A smile appeared in his face. He had been expecting them. The clock had to be about ten minutes to twelve.

“Hello again, guys. Gilbert’s not with you?”

“No, but I should say hello to you from him.” Francis smiled apologetic to the archaeologist. 

“Oh, then please send him greetings from me as well, if you don’t mind of course.” Matthew put up a meek smile. Then his focus drifted over to the captain. “Arthur? Oh my, are you all right? What happened to your eye?” With almost a slight panic in his voice, Matthew walked up to them and began fretting over him. Arthur just batted his hand away.

“Don’t worry about it, Matthew. It’s just a bad hangover. I’ll be fine.” Arthur tried to smile, but it became more of a grimace. Matthew didn’t look entirely convinced, but let it go. “Is Alfred here yet?”

“No, but I’m sure he’ll be here any minute. Why don’t you come into the back and sit down?” Matthew led them behind the counter and into the living room they had been in just the previous evening. This time, both Arthur and Francis chose a chair each to sit in. When they were well seated, Matthew disappeared with a promise to return with some tea. Francis once again studied the interior of the room while they waited. Now he could see many similarities with Arthur’s cabin back on the ship. The same warm colours and all the books were the most striking ones. But then there were these small details witnessing his life as a pirate; like the spyglass lying on the top bookshelf, or the sketch of a pirate ship hanging off the edge of the desk. All this made Francis wonder about the role Matthew had had as part of the crew. The details of the archaeologist’s relationship to the other pirates remained unsaid.

The curtain which separated the living room from the shop suddenly moved, and in came… Matthew? No, that couldn’t be right. Matthew had gone through the door to the kitchen, there was no way he could be coming in from the shop. But the man who had just entered the room looked just like him! At least the face and hair colour were similar. They had the same shape of the eyes and jaw, but this one’s hair was a bit shorter than Matthew’s, and he had this one strand of hair that stood straight up. The clothes however, looked nothing like the other’s. The look-a-like brightened by the sight of the pirate.

“Yo! How’s it going, Artie?” Artie? Francis almost choked on his own spit. He hadn’t heard anyone call Arthur that before. The captain was visibly irritated, but a smile adorned his face anyway.

“Hello, Alfred. Everything’s fine. How about you?”

“Oh, you know; always on the move. Being an adventurer is so exciting! There’s new stuff to experience every day, never gets tired.” The man, which apparently was the one called Alfred, grinned as he sat down on the sofa. Then he paused as he looked at Arthur and blinked a few times. “Hey, have you been in a fight again? You look like shit.”

Arthur huffed, but his cheeks tinted pink.

“Wasn’t exactly a fight.”

“Yes, you didn’t land a single punch.” Francis couldn’t resist himself and smirked as Arthur glared daggers at him.

“Oh, hey! I’m sorry I forgot to introduce myself.” The young man spoke up. “I’m Alfred, Matthew’s twin brother.” Ah, everything made sense now. 

“Hello, Alfred. I’m Francis Bonnefoy. Currently a… customer of the crew, I suppose. Oh, and Gilbert says hi.”

“Really? I didn’t know you had customers, Arthur? What you do for him? And since when do you do that?”

“That’s none of your business, boy. You’re no longer part of my crew, remember? I can’t reveal all my secrets. I still don’t trust you entirely to keep quiet about us.” Arthur frowned at the adventurer. 

“Oh, come on! I’m risking as much as you on this. I’m the one selling you information you know. And I was part of your crew for around ten years. You can’t still be mad at me for leaving to try to create a life of my own.”

“I’m not.” Arthur gritted his teeth. “In hindsight, I actually support you and Matthew leaving. I’m just saying that you can’t expect privileges you deliberately gave up on.”

“D-do anyone want some tea?” Matthew had come into the room without anyone actually noticing and stood behind Alfred on the sofa.

“Yes, please, Matthew.” Francis smiled at the boy. He almost felt sorry for him. The differences between Matthew and Alfred were pretty clear now, and Francis couldn’t even believe how he had mistaken one for the other. Their way of dressing was strikingly different as well. While Matthew wore something similar to what an aristocrat would have worn, albeit with a worker’s trousers instead of the common trousers which Francis had, and a light brown vest with vertical lines over a beige shirt. Alfred on the other hand was dressed more for a life on the road, with a top hat carrying goggles and a long leather coat without sleeves over a dirty shirt and a red neck-tie. His trousers were full of patches and he wore fingerless gloves. 

Arthur thanked Matthew as he poured some tea into cups for all of them before he sat down on the couch beside Alfred. The resemblance of their faces was still striking. Arthur cleared his throat before he spoke.

“So, let’s get this over with. As much of a pleasure it is too see you again, you both know I can’t stay long. Alfred, do you have the information?”

“Yes, Sir!” Alfred pulled out an envelope from inside his coat and placed it on the table. “A list of transport vessel’s route and cargo from five different companies for the next month. And this wasn’t easy to get, you know. You have no idea what I had to go through to get this.”

“Yes, yes, you’ll get your payment.” Arthur huffed as he placed another envelope on the table. Casually, they both took the one intended for them. Arthur raised an eyebrow at a small bloodstain on his envelope. “Did you run into trouble again, Alfred? What have I said to you about taking risks for this?” He grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Don’t get yourself killed, Alfred. I know, I know. But got to make money somehow.”

“And you pictured adventurer to be well paid?” Arthur couldn’t help but smile as he shook his head. “Anyway, we better be on our way. Thanks for the tea, Matthew.”

Francis rose along with Arthur, and began heading for the front door. Alfred and Matthew followed close behind – probably to say their farewells. When Arthur had his hand on the doorknob, he turned around to face the twins.

“So long, boys. Now you take care of yourselves. Matthew, you make sure Alfred doesn’t make too much trouble, and Alfred-”

“Yeah, yeah, we know. Chill, dad.” Alfred rolled his eyes as Matthew chuckled in the background. That’s when Francis’ brain short-circuited for a second. Dad? Were these his children?! As they all said goodbye and he and Arthur left out the door, Francis just blindly followed the pirate. Was Arthur really a father? How old was he? He had to be around forty – at least – if he was supposed to be their parent. Almost shaking, Francis could keep quiet anymore and had to ask.

“Dad?” Was the only thing he could muster as he stared at Arthur in disbelief while they walked down the cobbled street. 

“What?” Arthur stared at him as he didn’t know what Francis was talking about. But then he seemed to understand and flushed slightly. “Oh, yes. They’re sort of my adopted sons.”

“Really?” Francis breathed out almost relieved. He had feared the worst there for a second. “How did that happen?” 

“Well, I guess they snuck aboard the ship when they were about ten years old. Their parents had died of illness earlier that year I suppose. That’s what they told me anyway. Perhaps they just wanted out for the city that reminded them of that, or maybe they had different reasons. I don’t know. Of course, they were discovered within a few hours after we left the city. I was only a young pirate myself then, but I offered to take care of them since I felt responsible for discovering them. I made them work in the galley until we reached the next city, and by then the whole crew had gotten used to them and the boys didn’t really want to leave. So, they stayed.” Arthur chuckled. “I actually wanted Alfred to be my first mate when I took over as captain. But he refused. He wanted to do something else with his life. As you can see, they both succeeded pretty well. And it’s only been about a year.”

“So that’s why that John Smith is the first mate?”

“Yes. He was the popular choice among the crew, so I had to choose him.”

They continued out onto the main street in silence. It was clear this situation had not been easy on Arthur in the past. He obviously missed his boys. The whole thing seemed awfully familiar to Francis though.

“Is this why you treat Peter like that?” He spoke quietly, afraid to step on any toes again. “Why you shut him out like this?”

Arthur sighed.

“I guess that’s partly why. I’ve come to understand that the pirate-life isn’t for everyone, and certainly not young boys like him. He should go do something useful with his life, something that might not get him killed.”

“You want to protect him?”

“I suppose.” Arthur growled as he glared at his companion. “If you’re going to criticise me and yell at me again, you can just drop it!” 

“I wasn’t!” Francis huffed, but then sighed and continued. “I’ve actually been trying to apologize to you since this morning, you know… I suppose I shouldn’t have acted the way I did, and I guess I can sort of understand your choice.” Arthur just stared at him while they walked down the street. “But! That doesn’t mean I support your decision entirely. I still think you should try talking to him about it. As it is now, he’s most likely to do something stupid to make you take notice of him. I don’t think he’s of the type to just give up.”

Arthur kept quiet and stared intently at the ground as they approached the harbour. Neither of them said anything while they entered and walked over to their ship. Once on the deck, Arthur raised his head and shouted a few orders. They were leaving. The pirates already out on the deck, got up from their relaxed positions and got to work. Some of them went to fetch others. Before Francis got the chance to talk to Arthur again, he had disappeared into his cabin. Francis stared at the door unimpressed – he certainly was something. However, a new idea popped into his head, and with a broad smile, he walked over to the other door on the main deck. The one leading down to the dining room.

Down in the long hallway he had to brace himself against the wall as the ship began moving. When he pulled open the door in to the dining room, he could hear whistling. There were no one sitting along the table – the room was completely empty. However, as he walked over to the galley, around the wall furthest away, he could spot the small boy standing on a stool, happily washing dishes in the sink. Francis leant against the wall, simply observing with a smile for a few moments before Peter finally noticed him.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” His body tensed and he scowled at the intruder.

“Hello to you too, Peter.” Francis winked at the boy and push out from the wall to walk towards him, coming to lean against the counter instead.

“What do you want, jerk? Shouldn’t you be locked up in a cell somewhere?”

“Oh, perhaps. But I thought I’d help you with the dishes instead.” Francis smiled down at Peter. He noted the boy had Arthur’s eyebrows, and chuckled to himself. The family resemblance was there, all right. With the dirty blond hair and all. Except Peter had blue eyes instead of Arthur’s green. 

“Really? You’d do that?” His blue eyes lit up as he stared at Francis with hope. 

“Sure. Here, you can dry and I’ll wash them.” He handed a cloth to the boy and moved him over to the side as he himself took over by the sink. “Do you usually do this by yourself?”

“Yes, Mister! But I don’t mind.” Peter was suddenly much friendlier towards him, and Francis had to laugh. 

“Please, Peter. Call me Francis.” He winked down at the boy. “So why are you on this ship, Peter? Do you want to be a pirate?”

“Why wouldn’t I want to? Pirates are awesome! Have you seen how cool Arthur is? Did you see how he got on top of that boat and saved you yesterday? He’s so amazing!”

Francis’ face heated up a bit from embarrassment as he remembered the events of the day prior. Arthur was sort of cool he guessed. 

“So, you want to be like him?”

“Well, yeah… I guess. And there’s not like I have anything else I want to do. In the city, there’s just people with money who decide… and you have to listen to them. And I don’t want that. I want to be free. No one can tell me what to do.” Clearly Peter had listened in on Arthur’s speeches. The boy really admired his older brother.

“I see. And you think Arthur can help you with all this?” Francis kept up washing.

“Of course! Arthur’s the best! He can do anything.”

“And…” Francis hesitated. “Why do you think he acts so indifferent towards you?”

“Oh, that. Don’t worry about it.” Peter puffed out his chest and winked at Francis. “He’s always like that. And I’m sure he’ll get to know me better eventually, and then he’ll like me. I won’t give up!” The boy stared out in the air with a determent look on his face. Francis almost fell sorry for him. It was time to set his plan into action as Peter was drying the last plate. He leant against the counter as the boy put the plate away. 

“Hey, Peter. Do you want to hear the secret to get someone to like you?”

“What?! Is there such a thing?!”

“But of course.”

“Then tell me! Please!” 

Francis smirked.

“Cooking.”

“Cooking?”

“Yes.”

“What? Really?”

“You don’t believe me?”

Peter crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as he looked up at Francis. Francis huffed out a laugh and continued.

“Listen, why don’t we try it? I’ll help you with the cooking, and then you can bring it to Arthur and see for yourself. If anything goes wrong, which it won’t, you can blame it on me.”

“And what do you get out of this?”

“Hmm?”

“Why do you want to help me?” 

“Oh, err, I-” Yes, why did he want to do this? “To get you to like me? And you… owe me one? Just think of it as a future investment.”

“Hmm…” Peter rubbed his chin as he was contemplating the offer. “Okay, deal! Now where do we start?”

Francis let out a relieved sigh. And with a smile he began instructing the eager boy. After only a few minutes, they were standing by the counter with apples and cream in front of them. Francis carefully explained to Peter how he should cut the fruit and helped where it was obvious he struggled. After whipping the cream and cooking the pieces of apples along with some sugar, Francis fixed up dry bread rusk. Peter fetched out a tall glass and they laid the ingredients into layers inside. A spoon by the side, and the dessert was done. 

Francis walked with Peter up on the deck and up to the door into Arthur’s cabin. The boy paused in front of the door, looking down at his shoes. It was obvious he was getting nervous. Francis sighed with a smile and then knocked on the door for him. They heard the captain answer from within, and Francis nodded affirmatively at the young cabin boy. With careful movements, Peter opened the door and entered.

With his job done, Francis looked around. He was almost alone up on the deck, only the odd pirate working on the ropes could be seen around. As he leant against the wall, he could spot the city at two o’clock. It was almost gone behind the valleys, but he could still see the tallest buildings towering above the hills. They had managed to put quite the distance between it and them. Today some clouds had begun entering the airspace. Still far above them of course, and not those dark, heavy clouds carrying rain, but those almost see-through kind. Those you’d see on hot, sunny days. Francis smiled. The calmness of it all had really gotten to him. But he couldn’t get too used to this, he reminded himself. 

Then the door opened again, and Peter came out. After he had closed the door, he turned and beamed up at Francis.

“I think it worked!” The smile split his face in two, and Francis could do nothing but return it. “Thank you, Francis. I owe you one.”

“Please, it was nothing.” He winked at the boy.

“Maybe Arthur will like me now! I’m so excited! But I have to go help with the dinner now, so I’ll see you later, Francis.” Peter waved as he began walking back towards the other door, down to the galley. 

“Sure.” Francis smiled to himself and chuckled as he watched him disappear. With nothing more to do, he settled for going up on the forecastle to look at the view. It had proven convenient to pass the time there before. And the view was always interesting. The infinite landscapes flowing by never failed to capture his attention. And as he leant against the railing his hair – his newly washed and clean hair – flowed in the wind. He raked a hand through his locks, it was finally soft again. As his hand brushed over his chin he noticed how his stubble had grown. It was probably time to shave off a bit. 

“Francis.” 

He almost jumped by the familiar voice and turned his head to look at the captain standing beside him. He hadn’t even noticed him approaching. This man just continued to amaze him. The long, red coat fluttered in the breeze and the big eyebrows were pulled down in a frown. But then again, he hardly saw Arthur without one on his face. 

“Yes?”

“That was your idea, right?”

“What do you mean? How could I possibly be the mastermind behind anything?”

“Oh, no, of course. Peter just suddenly came up with this himself. Trying to bribe me with sweets. And as he’d make anything that’s taste that good.” Arthur rolled his eyes and Francis smirked.

“So you liked my dessert?”

“Hah, so it was you!”

“I just thought I’d help the poor boy out. You’re not easy to deal with, you know.”

“And look who’s talking.”

“Did it work?”

“… maybe.”

They stood together in a comfortable silence, looking out over the landscape. It was still the same view as the day before. Valleys and trees. Francis stole a few glances at the captain. He had left his hat behind in his cabin it seemed. The blond hair ruffled in the wind and the rings in his ears chimed together. 

“I can make you something else tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

“Are you a cook or something?” Arthur turned to face him, but Francis only chuckled. 

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“So what do you do for a living?”

“Ah, nothing much really. You shouldn’t ask me about that – that really doesn’t define me. But if you ask me about my talents, I could tell you more. You see; I’m a man of many talents.” He winked as Arthur raised an eyebrow and stared unimpressed at him.

“Really?”

“Yes, my work is boring. Now, but I can tell you I do have quite some skill at cooking. Dare I say I’m one of the best. I’ve learned a lot travelling the world. And I can also paint, if you’d like. My singing voice isn’t bad either.”

“… what are you getting at exactly?”

“Please.” Francis grabbed Arthur’s shoulders and stared into his eyes. “Can I use your shower again tonight?” Silence filled the air and begun to stretch on as they just stared at each other. “I can help you cut your hair.”

“What the hell, Francis? My shower. Really?” Francis let go of the pirate and turned towards the rail again. 

“I’ve come to the realization that I detest to be dirty these past days, the grease and knots in my hair, the feeling of sweat clinging to my body. It’s the worst. And the common bathroom here is just so… disgusting. No offence, but none of the pirates onboard this ship even knows the first thing about personal hygiene.”

“None taken.”

“And your bathroom was so clean. It even smelled of roses and I love flowers! Please, Arthur; I’m desperate here.” Francis looked back at the captain through his locks of golden hair. Arthur spluttered and suddenly struggled to place his eyes.

“W-well, I guess I-I can consider it.” He rubbed the back of his head while he looked away. Francis lit up immediately. 

“Thank you so much, captain. I’ll be sure to make you something amazing tomorrow, how about that? After what I’ve seen, it wouldn’t exactly hurt if you gained some weight.”

“I beg your pardon? That’s not up for you to decide!”

“Oh, come on, you’re basically a walking skeleton!”

“Now, that’s just an exaggeration! I’m not that scrawny.” 

“I don’t believe you would even be able to beat me in a fight, dear.” 

“I’ll take that as a challenge!”

“Ah – no, no – that was not a-”

“Get ready to be beaten, twat.” Arthur quickly shed the coat to the floor, getting into a fighting stance. 

“Why does it always come down to violence with you?! Do you have to fight about everything?”

“Are you afraid to lose perhaps?”

“Oh!” Francis leered down at the pirate as he laughed. “So that’s how it is! I suppose you don’t have a sword to spare?” It seemed like the only way to get through to Arthur was with brute force. He had to earn his respect somehow, maybe this was his chance.

Arthur grinned as he snatched a sword from one of his crew walking by, hurling it at Francis before he drew his own. Francis caught it in the air and lowered it while he looked at the captain. Raising an eyebrow and cocking his head, he spoke.

“Ready?”

“Always!” 

Francis barely managed to block the first blow as Arthur threw himself at him. The pirate was obviously well trained in sword fighting, moving his feet quickly after his body, always keeping himself in balance on the deck. Francis didn’t even manage to answer with a blow himself before he was continually pressed backwards, almost stumbling over his own feet, thrown off-guard by the rapid movements of his opponent. Arthur certainly could fight; he was quick but still his blows held a lot of force. Francis grinned as he huffed and planted his feet steady on the deck. Their swords came to a stop as they clang together and stayed still, forcefully pressing towards one another. Arthur raised an eyebrow at the sudden change of the pace but kept up as Francis started dealing blows himself. He wasn’t as fast as Arthur, but he swung the sword with great precision. Soon the fight turned more even, although Arthur still seemed to have the upper hand. With a swift pierce, he managed to cut through Francis’ upper left arm of his coat, slicing into the skin. Francis hissed at the sudden sting and forced Arthur backwards. He used the pirate’s sudden surprise and stumbling to his advantage, and landed another blow, which had Arthur thrown off balance, and then swiped his feet under him. Arthur hard fell onto the deck, and the sword flew out of his hand. A face of disbelief stared up as Francis placed his sword by the other’s throat. 

“I suppose I win then.” Francis grinned down at Arthur, who still hadn’t said a thing since he fell. 

“Wha- How did you-?”

“Like I said, Arthur; I’m a man of many talents.” He grinned. “And yet your greatest weakness is that you underestimate me.” 

Francis removed his borrowed sword while Arthur glared up at him. However, when Francis held out a helping hand, he took it. 

“Well,” Arthur coughed as he picked up his coat and hat. “I won’t next time.” 

“Do you plan on fighting with me on other occasions as well?” Francis chuckled, gloating in self-confidence at the moment. “If that’s the case, it seems that you’ll owe me a great deal of coats by the end of the trip. Look at what you did! It’s not like I packed for this trip, I only have one with me, you know.” He tried to sound as dramatic as he could, pouting at Arthur. The pirate just glared back at him, unimpressed by the acting. With a sigh, he spoke.

“Come with me then.” Arthur turned to walk away, down the stairs. “And give the sword back.” 

Francis stabbed the sword into the deck, leaving it for the rightful owner to claim, and followed him down to the main deck, and then straight into the captain’s own cabin again. As he closed the door behind him, Arthur gestured for him to sit on the couch he had spent the previous night on. Wondering what Arthur was planning, Francis did as the man commanded. His arm still stung a bit from the hit.

“Give me your coat.” Arthur stood with his back to him, searching through his large bookshelves, apparently looking for something. And he seemed to have found it as he reached for and lifted down a small box. Francis had still not removed his coat when Arthur turned around to face him. As the captain raised an eyebrow, Francis realized he had not moved. With a cough, he hurriedly shook off the jacket and handed it over. Arthur accepted it and was about to walk over to the desk when he stopped. His eyes were fixed on Francis’ arm, and as he looked down on himself, Francis realized his light shirt was stained with blood. 

“Oh.” That was the only thing he could think of saying at the moment. That explained the stinging he had felt. Arthur just smacked his tongue at him as he left the coat on the desk and went around to open one of the drawers. This irked Francis. Here he was acting like this was entirely Francis’ fault even though he was the one who insisted on fighting, and the one who had seemingly cut up his arm. Francis glared at him as he walked over with something small bundled up in his left hand, and the chair to the desk tucked up under his right. Placing the chair in front of the couch, Arthur sat down on it. Now Francis could he had been carrying bandages with him. 

“Wha-”

“Take off your shirt, or I’ll rip it up myself.” 

Those words were so unexpected Francis found himself actually blushing and with no other choice than to do as Arthur said. The captain seemed not to realize how that had sounded as he had a deeply concentrated look on his face. As soon as the shirt and vest were gone, Arthur grabbed a hold of Francis’ injured arm and inspected it, all with a frown.

“You know this is your own fault.”

“Wha- How is this my fault?!” Francis fumed.

“If you just had blocked my sword, you could have avoided this.”

“Hey! You cut me! And yet this is my fault?”

“If you’re not able to defend yourself, you will face the consequences, there’s nothing more to it than that.”

“Oh, so this is another part of your tough love-tactics?”

“Fuck off!”

Arthur tightened his grip around Francis’ arm so it almost hurt, and refused to look him in the eyes. Francis kept his mouth shut as Arthur used a cloth to wipe away the blood surrounding the wound. It didn’t appear to be as deep as Francis had originally thought, but still deep enough to hurt. Francis tried not to make a sound as Arthur poured alcohol over the wound, but a small hiss still escaped. Arthur seemed to loosen his grip a bit after that. With careful fingers, the pirate captain bandaged the cut, and Francis was almost taken aback with how tender the man was. He was left to mumble out a “thanks” as Arthur stood up and took the chair back over to the desk. After he had put on his shirt and vest again, Francis saw Arthur open the box and fish out a thread and needle from it.

“You can sew?”

“You’re not the only one with many talents, Bonnefoy.” Arthur smirked as he picked up the coat again.

“Well, yes, but this… is just- I don’t know, ironically? You’re a pirate and sewing just seem so… unlike your type?” The fact that Arthur knew how to sew, just baffled Francis. Arthur just continued to surprise him and leave him in wonder, at the same time it irked him. Arthur irked him.

“What? Because I’m a pirate I’m not allowed to have hobbies?” That smug grin on his face irked Francis. 

“Well, obviously you don’t listen to anyone saying you’re not allowed to do something.” Somehow that almost came out as more of a praise to Francis and he firmly chose to shut up before he said more stupid things. Fortunately, Arthur didn’t take it that way. 

“Why should I?” The question was left hanging as Arthur finished patching up the coat. Finally, after a few minutes with Arthur sewing and Francis just glancing over at him, he held it up and inspected the seam. Seemingly content with the result, he got up and flung the clothing towards Francis. 

“There. All done.”

“…thanks.”

“I suppose dinner should be ready by now.”

“I would think so. Will I have the honour of dining with the captain today?” Francis smirked up at the pirate as he pulled his coat on. 

“Perhaps…” Arthur raised an eyebrow. “I suppose I could grace you commoner with my presence this once. But only because you’re not a half-bad cook yourself.” 

“Of course, my captain.” Francis shot up and bowed as deep as he could as a mock and earned himself a smack to the back of his head. “Now, now, let’s not forget who is the most skilled with a blade here.”

“Says the man with a cut on his arm!”

“Who still won!”

“This once! Well, I suppose that means you’ll have to keep feeding me then.” Arthur began walking away from him, towards the door, and Francis suddenly froze with revelation. 

“Wait… did you lose to me on purpose?”

“Of course not! Your food isn’t that great, don’t flatter yourself too much.” Arthur scowled back at him before he opened the door and exited. Francis just shook his head with a smile adorning his face as he followed suit. 

They walked together across the deck and along to the dining area. The landscape had begun flattening out again, and more clouds had gathered. Most of the crew had yet not gathered for the dinner, a few still working on steering the ship and others taking it easy all over the ship. Gilbert wasn’t anywhere to be seen either, probably down in the machine room. The mood felt overall lighter aboard as they had sailed further away from the city. Arthur and Francis sat down across each other at the end of the table. There were currently only three other pirates in the room with them, all of seemed mildly surprised that the captain had joined them. They could hear Peter working with the dinner in the galley, and more of the crew gradually began entering the dining room.

“Do you usually not eat here with the crew?” Francis had his head rested in the palm of his hand as his looked over the crowd. There probably weren’t more than twenty people on the ship, he estimated. And all of them had given the captain weird looks at some point this evening.

“I prefer not to, yes. Why?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“Just wondering.” Francis offered a sly smile. “So, what changed your mind?”

“Well, I… thought I’d check up on Peter.” He adverted his eyes down to the table and visibly flushed as he furrowed his brows. “Perhaps… take you up on your… advice.” 

“You really liked my cooking, huh?” Francis smirked smugly. 

“Will you shut up about that?!” Arthur glared at him. At that, Gilbert entered the room and walked over to them. With a movement of his hand he motioned for Francis to scoot over, and sat down at the end, opposite of the captain. Francis could smell the sweat and oil grease off of him and was silently thankful he didn’t have to share sleeping quarters with him. 

“What, decided to finally eat dinner with the rest of us, Captain?” 

“Oh, shut up you too.” Arthur looked unimpressed at the mechanic. “Can’t I do as I bloody well please on my own ship anymore?” 

“I can’t wait to see the look on Peter’s face when he finds out you’re here.” Gilbert cackled and Arthur just huffed as he pulled a hand through his short strands of hair. 

They chatted together for another five minutes before the food was ready. Gilbert had apparently begun working on fixing Francis mechanic winged backpack, however some of the technology used there was unfamiliar to Gilbert, and he thought it might help him advance his biomechanics. When you were stuck on a ship all day every day, access to new knowledge wasn’t always easy to gain and he had to figure most of it out for himself. He had been working hard all day, and it was evident as the food was brought to the table and he almost swallowed it whole. Francis couldn’t help but notice the big smile on Peter’s face as he discovered Arthur’s presence. The way his eyes sparkled as he put down the captain’s plate was almost overwhelming, and by the look of it, Arthur noticed as well. Francis felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth at the whole thing. It was adorable. Arthur was visibly flustered, and Peter wouldn’t stop staring at him. 

“Thank you for the food, Peter.” Francis grabbed his attention away from Arthur and used the opportunity to give him a wink. 

“Not a problem, Sir!” Peter bowed quickly and hurried away back to the galley. Francis chuckled as he watched the boy go. When he looked back to the table, both Arthur and Gilbert were staring at him, the latter with the spoon halfway to his mouth, which was open.

“… what?” Francis stared clueless back at them. 

“Did he just call you Sir?” Arthur narrowed his eyes.

“Yes…?”

“Man, Peter’s never been polite to anyone his entire life. Not even to Arthur, no matter how highly he thinks of him.” Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him. “What the fuck did you do to him?” 

“Not a thing, I simply treated him with proper manners. You two should try it some time.” Francis sneered at them, but the grin was quickly wiped away when Arthur hit him with a piece of mashed potato from across the table. Gilbert howled as Francis desperately tried to get the mush out of his hair, and Arthur just sneered smugly at him. 

“And what was that you said about manners?”

“That you barbarians have none! None at all! Bastards all of you!”

The mashed potatoes and the stew they had been served quickly disappeared in the cheerful company. However, Francis still continued to fret over his hair through the whole meal. Through the windows they could see that the sun had gone down over the horizon and the light was slowly disappearing. Eventually, Arthur had cleared his plate and stood up from the table. 

“If you wanted to use my shower, you better come do it now.” 

Arthur didn’t even look at Francis when he spoke while he straightened out his coat, so it took Francis a few seconds to understand that it was directed at him. Suddenly in a hurry, he shot up from the bench as well. Gilbert was left behind at the table, shaking his head with a smile. 

Francis followed Arthur out on the deck and towards his cabin for the second time that evening. When they entered, the captain went over to a cabinet and fished out a fresh towel he flung back at his guest.

“I don’t know what you used yesterday, but just take this for now. Soaps are already in the shower.” He turned to face him. “And don’t use all the hot water, will you? I’d like not to freeze off any body parts before I go to bed.” 

“Yes, yes. Don’t worry.” Francis rolled his eyes before he sighed. “Too bad I have to dress up in my sweaty and dirty clothes after I’m clean again. I really enjoy the feeling of being fresh, I’ve grown to discover. I might have to buy new clothes at the next city.”

“Why not use the washing machine?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously?! Why doesn’t anyone tell me these things? Do you want to see me suffer?” Francis groaned. “Well, it’s not as if I have anything to wear while my clothes are washing.” He began walking over to the bathroom door when Arthur stopped him with a hand on his shoulders. When he turned, he saw the pirate looking slightly way, not willing to face him fully. 

“You can borrow an extra shirt and some trousers from me if you’d like.” He looked over to a chest standing in a corner. “Just until your clothes are clean and dry again. And I’m not using them now anyway.”

Francis just stood there, looking at the other man for a few seconds before he answered him. 

“As if I’d ever want to walk around in your horrible fashion style.”

“Your fucking bast-” Arthur took a firm grip on his shoulder.

“I’m joking, I’m joking!” Francis laughed at the reaction he got. Then he smiled before walking over to the door. “Thank you, Arthur. Really. Although you still can’t dress properly.” Right after he shut the door, he heard something that might have been a shoe hitting it with full force. 

Francis showered, using that soap he adored, the one that smelled of roses, dried his hair and fixed himself up alone in the bathroom. Once more the fantastic feeling of being clean and smelling good overwhelmed him. Who had thought living on a pirate ship could be this luxurious? Well, the food still wasn’t exactly the best, but that could be changed. With the towel wrapped around his waist, he stood in front of the mirror and studied himself. The toned muscles were visible under the hair on his chest and arms. He appeared much like he had a few days ago, if you looked away from the steadily growing scruff on his chin. Although nothing had seemingly changed overall, he felt different. As if something major had shifted in some way. After staring at himself for another few seconds, he shrugged it off. He took the liberty of using one of Arthur’s razorblades to correct the scruff back to a stubble. After he finished, he looked down at his dirty clothes discarded on the floor and squatted down. Using the razor, he picked on the inside of his vest until an extra layer of textile fell off. Francis carefully fetched out a folded piece of paper from the hidden pocket and hid it under the towel instead. With a sigh, he rose with the bundle of clothes in his arms and stepped out though the door.

Arthur had sat down at his desk by the window with a book open in front of him. He looked up when Francis came into room again. Francis thought he could see a light blush tint his ears before the captain gestured at a pile of clothes on the sofa as he spoke down into his book.

“The washing machines are down by the common bathroom, just put your clothes in there, and they’ll be done in the morning.”

“You are most kind, Captain.” Francis answered with a smirk. “I’m just going to borrow this towel for a while, and then I will see you again tomorrow. Good night.” He waved over his shoulder as he walked towards the exit with both bundles of clothes in his arms. 

“Don’t forget you owe me for this, Francis!” 

That was the last Francis heard before he banged the door shut behind him. He huffed as he walked over the deck. The captain really was demanding. He was fun, though. To rile him up and banter with him was certainly entertaining, Francis thought as he walked down the stairs. He finally felt like he was getting somewhere with the captain, that he was warming up to him. Even though he was still a prick. Francis continued to ponder about Arthur as he found the washing machine and as he went back up again to the sleeping quarters. There he changed into the clothes he had borrowed; just a simple pair of black trousers and a seemingly worn shirt, which may have been white before. After he was done, the folded piece of paper was hidden in one of the pockets. Francis patted the pocket wistfully before settling into his designated hammock for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is foreshadowing in this story...


	4. A rainy day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a slow day for the pirates, but Francis still manages to fill his time with something interesting.

In the morning, Francis slowly fell out of a dull sleep. He was lying in the hammock and staring up at the ceiling, trying to identify the sound he heard. The whole feel of the room was different from the last time he slept there. Like before, there was no sound from other people there, the pirates obviously being more used to an earlier rise than him. Still, there was this underlying ambience and air that was different. Pondering the change, Francis rose from the hammock and walked towards the door while he combed out the newly formed knots in his hair with his fingers. 

After Francis had stopped by the washing machine and hanged his clothes up to dry, he went over to the dining room. To his surprise, he could hear many voices as he approached the door. And as he opened it he could see most of the crew was gathered inside. None of them gave him much attention aside from a few ugly looks. Obviously, they had not taken to like him. Francis just gave them a disgusted look himself while he proceeded to ignore them and walked straight across the room and over to the galley, hoping to locate Peter. He rounded the corner and spotted the boy by the sink, washing dishes just as he had found him doing the day before. 

“Hello, Peter. You really just have all work and no play, don’t you?”

Peter turned his head and grinned at the intruder.

“It’ll go faster with some help.”

Francis pretended, with a loud groan, that just the thought of doing work exhausted him. Still, he made his way over to the young boy and showed him playfully over to the side so he could do the washing. Peter laughed with joy and picked up the towel to dry.

“Hey, Peter. Why is everyone still inside? I thought breakfast was already over. Shouldn’t they be out tending to the ship?”

“Oh yeah, it started raining this morning, so there’s not much to do around the ship now.”

“I see.” Francis didn’t completely understand it; were they afraid of just some rain? He figured he could just ask Arthur about it later instead. “Hey, Peter, have you made breakfast for Arthur yet?”

“No, the crew usually get theirs first.”

“Great! I’ll help you with it.” Francis winked at the boy.

“Really?! Thanks!”

“I can bring it over to him, if you want. I was headed that way anyway.”

“Sure!” 

They washed the rest of the dishes together, Francis making small-talk with the boy, asking about exciting things that had happened during his stay on the ship. It seemed Peter wasn’t really allowed to do much when it came to fighting and plundering, which Francis felt somewhat relieved over. But Peter could reveal that – unknown to Arthur – he had stood by a porthole more than one time and watched the pirates in action when things went down. But Francis wasn’t allowed to pass that on to Arthur, something he promised he wouldn’t do. 

After they were done, Francis found some eggs and decided to make an omelette for the captain – and himself as well, as he hadn’t eaten yet that morning. He let Peter help him with whisking the eggs while he went looking for some seasoning. Which was harder than it would seem due to the state of the galley and just the sheer disorganization of the whole room. Eventually he found something he could be able to use, and the eggs were moved over into the frying pan. Using what he could find of leftovers, Francis added to the omelette, and after a few more minutes, it was ready. Slicing it in half and placing it on two plates, Francis was ready to leave. He thanked Peter as he left the galley through the dining room and into the hallway. Now he could sense the difference in ambience again and understood the cause. It became even more clear as he continued onto the deck. As he stood in the doorway, he saw the rain pounding down on the deck. It was intensely heavy rain as well, and the sky was a dark grey all around the ship. Francis couldn’t even see what kind of landscape they were in. With a deep sigh and a last, sad thought of his hair, he made his way onto the deck and almost sprinted across it to the door on the other side. 

Francis tore open the door and stormed in before he smacked it shut behind him. As he glanced into the captain’s cabin he could see Arthur, sitting by the desk, lifting his head. He looked a bit surprised to see the man before him, but then there was a tug at the edge of his mouth.

“How’s the weather?”

Francis scoffed in good humour as he began to walk over to the captain.

“What does it look like? I was practically drowning out there.” He placed the omelettes down in front of the pirate, leaning his side against the desk. “Where are we anyway? I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this type of rain before.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow as he stared down at the breakfast before him. 

“Err, we’re flying over a rainforest of sorts. Well, a mixture of a rainforest and a swamp. We can’t fly very fast when it’s raining like this, but it’s still faster than to go around it. So, we just have to take it easy today. But… erm, what is this?” Arthur looked up at Francis while he pointed down at the plate before him.

“It’s your breakfast.” Francis winked at him. “I told you I would make you something delicious today as well. And Peter helped of course.”

Francis had already started on his omelette and was halfway through it. It tasted quite decent in Francis’ opinion. A bit reluctantly, Arthur took a bite. The way his face changed made Francis feel warm inside and he had to hide a smile. Although, he still spared glances over at the pirate while he shuffled the rest of the breakfast into his mouth at an incredible speed. He still sported that bruise around his right eye, although it was less visible now. When he was finished Francis pretended he was studying the bookshelves. He straightened up and put down his own plate on the desk as he left to get closer. 

“Did you like it?” Francis asked nonchalant with his back to Arthur and reading the titles of the books. A smirk snuck up on him. 

“It was… all right.”

“Of course it was. I made it.” Francis winked back at him. Arthur scoffed, but came with no retort. “Arthur, why exactly is it that we have to go slower while it’s raining?”

“Normally we wouldn’t have to. If this had just been a light drizzle or something that had passed in less than an hour, we would have kept the same pace. However, this is extremely heavy rain, which almost never occurs outside this region, and it will most likely last all day. It would be the same case with a big storm, and in the case of thunder and lightning we should always just stop completely for obvious reasons.” Arthur straightened up in his chair. “Say, if we were to go through this rain in our normal speed, what do you think would happen?”

“We’d get wet?” Francis put a hand on his hip and made a face. 

“Sure, that as well I suppose.” Arthur looked unimpressed by Francis’ efforts. “Actually, our usual speed is quite fast because this is a fast ship, even though it doesn’t seem that way when we’re flying. Combine that speed with the heavy rain, and it’ll be like getting hit by hail. Which, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out, wouldn’t be very beneficial to our sails and air balloon.”

“So, we have to go slow so that we don’t damage the ship in other words.”

“That’s the short version, yes.” Arthur looked back down at the papers on his desk, shuffling through them. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have something more important to do.”

“More important than entertaining me?” Francis gasped and held his hand to his chest in a dramatic gest.

“Everything is more important than that. Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Not really, I thought I’d keep you with company today.” Francis winked at him as he picked out a random book from the shelf and went back to the desk again. “I see it as my duty, considering no one else is willing to make that sacrifice.” 

Arthur threw a pen a him, which Francis caught with ease and placed back down on the various papers almost covering up a huge map, which covered nearly the entire desk. 

“So, what is that important thing you were doing?”

Arthur sighed, obviously he had already given up on getting his guest to leave him alone. He hesitated a few seconds, and the they could hear the rain tapping against the large window behind the captain. 

“I’m looking over the information I got from Alfred to see what our next target is.”

“Hmm. How do you determine that exactly?”

“As if I’m telling you! I’m not going to spill my trade-secrets to some city-bloke and then gently drop him off at the next stop, idiot!”

“Oh, come on! I won’t tell anyone.”

“Yeah, sure. Fuck off!” Arthur yanked the papers out from Francis’ view and glared at him, making Francis groan and move over to the sofa by the bathroom door. Francis slumped down and opened the book he had taken with him. Around the World in Eighty Days by Jules Verne. He had to snort at the irony before he began reading. 

However, reading proved harder than he had expected. His attention kept drawing towards the man sitting behind the writing desk, looking down at the papers and occasionally scribbling down something on a separate piece. The view had captured Francis and wouldn’t let him go. The dirty blond hair sticking up everywhere, as if he hadn’t even touched a comb in his entire life. The dark and large eyebrows drawn into a frown of concentration over cutting green eyes. But it was more than that. Francis was captured by the entire being in that chair. The way he moved. The scrawny but still powerful body shifted with his attention. The self-confidence was evident in the way he carried himself. He was a powerful man, both with a sharp mind and the most elegant sword wielding. A man of many talents, just like Francis. Arthur was a great captain. The book seemed less and less appealing to Francis. After about twenty minutes he had managed to read only three pages and had to face that the battle was already lost. Putting the book aside on the sofa, he stood up and strode over to the desk once more. Arthur didn’t even look up as Francis came up beside him and leant one arm on the table. Francis tried to see if he could make sense of the notes, but he soon realized that he didn’t even know where they were on the map, and that he couldn’t even pinpoint his native town.

“Where are we?” Francis asked and was relieved when it seemed Arthur was not going to send him away again.

“Here.” Arthur pointed at a darker spot around the middle left of the map, stretching out from north to south. Francis tried to backtrack the ships movement and found the city he had been at before all of this. “I don’t think I ever asked, but why were you even all the way out in the west if your money is out here on the east?” Arthur furrowed his brows.

“I took the train to visit a friend actually.” Francis chuckled. “He’s a bit of an airhead so I wouldn’t throw it past him to not even realize I’m missing.”

Arthur frown grew deeper and he stared more intently at the map. Francis cleared his throat and made an attempt to lighten the sudden gloomy mood.

“So, what is the plan for tomorrow?”

“We’ll make a stop here.” He pointed east of where they currently were located. “Around noon and restock. It’s about time to fill our storage again.”

Francis mused at the map. Doveport was the name of the city. He had never even heard of it before.

“And how is their… relationship with pirates?” At that question Arthur let out a laugh.

“This. This city is the safe haven for all types of outlaws. It’s about the only place we can do what we want, be who we want to be, and freely buy anything without arising suspicion.” He smirked up at Francis. “So, you better stay close, city-boy.”

“Hah! Don’t make me laugh. Dare I remind you who won our little tussle yesterday? Do you recall, or did you injure your brain in the fall?”

“Fine then! Just try walking around the city alone then, and we’ll see how well it goes. But don’t come crying to me later if someone tried cut your hair off or steal your boots.”

That statement made Francis gasp in horror.

“You don’t think they’d do something like that, do you?”

“It’s a city of bandits and thieves, Francis. Anything is possible. If it will make you feel better I’ll promise to buy back your hair if that happens.”

Francis punched him in the shoulder as he swore. Still, he had to smile at Arthur’s hearty laugh and the way his eyes crinkled in the corners. 

“Idiot.” Francis bent down to get a closer look at the map. “So, how’s it going with the transport routes? Are you getting anywhere?”

“Yes, I’m just trying to find the best place to hijack this one ship of the Avalon Company, owned by one Madam Morton. The Avalon Company is transporting a ship loaded with gold between these two cities, Lenzing and Carbet, a short week from now, and I’m trying to fit it into our route. It’s a bit north of here, and if we’re dropping you off in a few days, we might make it just in time.” Arthur rubbed his jaw in thought. 

Francis could feel the lump in his throat. It was too soon. He had to leave in just a few days from now? Everything happened too soon. He forced himself to continue the conversation with the pirate.

“And what about the other information? Anything useful?”

“Yes, fortunately for us, Alfred knows what he is doing. It’s a great advantage for me that he’s a former pirate so he knows exactly what I’m looking for, as opposed to if I had bought this information off some sketchy bloke in a random back ally. That, and I also trust Alfred.”

“Yes, I can see that.” Francis fiddled with his hair while he spoke. “And what are the other companies transporting, if I may ask?”

“Well, we have these two ships in due two weeks’ time that’s carrying weapons and money, and then there’s the train going south with cargo from many different companies with about everything in three weeks’ time.” 

“So, this is usually how you do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know; buy information, setting up an ambush or whatever, and then just take what you want.”

“Well, it’s a bit more to it than that, but essentially; yes.”

Francis frowned and put a finger to his cheek in thought.

“Isn’t that sort of cheating at life?”

“Oh, did you think I made my living by being honest? And who says life has to be hard in the first place?” Arthur sighed. “Listen, I absolutely respect people who earns money the hard way, and I try my best not to fuck it up for the little people. My main problem is with the big companies who can stand to lose half their money without even notice it in their style of living. If you ask me, I’m doing the world a favour by levelling the field. But if those earnest people chose to stand in my way there’s nothing I can do to save them.”

Francis stood in silent thought just staring down at the papers on the desk. He didn’t say a word as he contemplated over what Arthur had said. The world had quite a different appearance when you were standing on the outside and looking in than when you were a functional part of society. Things he had not even thought twice about in the past now seemed completely unfair and illogical. It was clear that this journey as an unwanted guest on a pirate’s ship was going to change him.

“Hey, Arthur.”

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favourite book?” Francis smiled down at the pirate, who raised his head in obvious surprise and with a bewildered look on his face. 

“I-I am not sure?”

“Oh, come on!” Francis gestured with his arms as he walked over to the bookshelves, studying the titles once more. “You must have at least a hundred titles to choose from here. It's like a small library. One of them has to be your favourite.” 

“Well, I suppose A Drama in the Air is not exactly half-bad.”

“Hmm…” Francis frowned as he scanned the shelves for the title. “Can’t say I’ve read that one. It’s by Jules Verne as well, right?”

“Yes. It’s a short story about to men in a balloon, where one is the pilot and the other an uninvited guest. The guest demand they go higher and higher while he rambles on about the history of air-balloons, both failures and victories. The pilot becomes more and more frightened by the passenger, who won’t let him stop the ascending of the balloon. In the end-”

“Ah, ah! No, stop right there. I don’t want you spoiling anything for me.” Francis smirked as he finally discovered the book and pulled it out from its place.

“You’re going to read it?”

“I’ve always wondered what the favourite book of a pirate captain would be like.” Francis winked as he went over to the sofa again. Arthur just rolled his eyes and picked up on his previous task at hand. Although, Francis could feel a pair of eyes on him as he stuck his nose down into the book. In fact, it was more of a booklet, only a few pages long.

A comfortable silence fell over once more them as Francis read and Arthur studied the map. The few times Francis could not help himself and peeked up at the pirate, Arthur had a small smile adorning his face. And Francis felt a warm feeling swell in his chest. The tapping of the rain on the window sounded through the room and enhanced the atmosphere. Time passed rather quickly he found, and when he had picked up again the book he had abandoned earlier and was about a quarter into it, Arthur suddenly rose from his desk. Francis was automatically drawn to his figure. Without a word, he went over to the bookshelves. Francis had noticed by now that they held an extremely varied selection of literature, with a bit of leaning towards adventure and drama, as well as a few caskets. Arthur selected a book and then walked over to where Francis sat, now pretending intently to be engage in the book when he only a few seconds earlier had had his eyes glued to the captain. Arthur sat down beside Francis and he could feel his heart speed up by the close proximity. 

“Finished already?” Francis didn’t take his eyes off the pages as he asked the question.

“I’m effective.”

“Hmm… you know, we should do this again some time.” Francis smirked over at a flushing pirate. Arthur was easily embarrassed he had discovered. It was almost too easy to make him do that. And so satisficing. 

“We’ll see…” Arthur frowned down into his book, and as Francis opened his mouth again, there was a knock on the door. The captain answered. “Yes, come in.”

The door opened and in poked a boy’s head. It was Peter, who brightened up by the sight of the two men. He entered the room with a smile and two dinnerplates in his hands.

“Hello, Francis! I thought you might still be here when both of you missed dinner and I didn’t hear anything more from you. So, I brought you some food!”

Francis smiled warmly.

“That very kind of you, Peter. Thank you.” He rose from his seat beside Arthur and went over to receive both of the plates from the boy. Peter grinned as he bowed slightly, cast one last look over at Arthur, and then went back out the door again.

“I hadn’t realized it had become this late already.” Arthur mumbled as Francis walked back towards him and gave him one of the plates. 

“I know. Time really flies when you’re together with me.” Francis winked. “A day well spent if you ask me.”

“Yes, your ugly face certainly is a distraction.” 

“Oh, you want to go there, Mr. Eyebrows?”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” Arthur glared, but still did not move as Francis sat down together with him on the sofa again. They continued their light banter as while they began eating. Francis had no idea what it was they were currently shuffling into their mouths, only that it may actually taste even worse than what had been served the day before. He could not help to make a face while he ate. The texture was horrible and it was impossible to tell what ingredient was what. Not that the colour looked particularly appetising either. With a glance over at Arthur, he could see that the pirate had no trouble eating the dinner, and even had the nerve to look like he enjoyed it.

“You don’t actually think this is good, do you?” Francis stared in disbelief.

“You don’t?” Arthur raised an eyebrow.

“No! It’s horrible.”

“No? And I thought you said to encourage Peter?”

“That has nothing to do with it! He’s an adorable kid, but he really doesn’t know how to cook. I’m surprised you’re even still alive.”

“I really don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“So, you’re saying that you don’t taste a difference in what you had for breakfast this morning and what you’re eating now?”

“Err… not really?”

Francis could literally feel his pride snap in two, and had to grasp at his own chest in order to calm down. This was possibly the worst insult he had ever received, and worst part was that Arthur wasn’t even aware of it. He hung his head low, so that his locks shielded his face from view. He almost felt like crying. 

“Eh, I guess the omelette was a bit tastier?” Arthur spoke carefully, obviously trying to cheer him up. 

“Really?” Francis lifted his head and stared intently at Arthur, his eyes shiny. 

“Sure.” Arthur tried to keep a stern face as his cheeks grew red. They ate the rest of the meal in peace. Francis tried to keep the food down, but still had to leave some on his plate. When they were done, they placed them down on the floor beside the sofa. Arthur was about to pick up his book again when Francis spoke. 

“So, if you hadn’t become a pirate, what do you picture yourself to be working as? I’m curious.” Francis turned all the way over so that he was facing Arthur, with both his feet on the sofa and an arm slung over the backrest. 

“I-I haven’t really given it much thought, but if I had to pick, I guess perhaps I’d open up my own bookstore like Matthew or become a teacher?” 

“I can picture you as a teacher.” Francis grinned. “A grumpy old man constantly yelling at the students.”

“Hey! What about you then? What would you like to be if you’d get another shot at it?” Arthur crossed his arms and pouted. Adorable.

“Hmm, I might open my own bakery, or become a tailor.”

“You can sew?”

“No, I’m afraid not.” Francis rubbed the back of his head and smiled shyly. But then he winked. “I guess I’d have to hire you to help me.” 

“You wish.” Arthur smirked and Francis had to laugh. “Would you like a cup of afternoon tea?”

“Sure.” Francis smiled at the other as he rose from the sofa and went over to the bookshelves. There weren’t only books and caskets there, but also a tea set, Francis now noticed. It was made of white porcelain, had a golden edge and was painted with pink roses. Arthur brought down the tea set and went to retrieve another device, which seemed to contain water. After a push of a button, a low buzzing sound emitted from it and the water slowly began to form bubbles at the bottom. Francis came to the conclusion that it was a very outdated model of the water boiler. While he waited for the water to boil, Arthur fetched out a box half full with tea leaves and one containing sugar. He added a bit of both, the leaves in a tea-ball, into the tea pot and the boiling water once it was done. Then he brought it, and two cups with the same design, over to the sofa. Francis held the cups while Arthur poured the tea. 

“Unfortunately, there’s no more milk left, so we’ll have to do without it.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, I usually don’t drink tea much actually. I’m more of a coffee-person.” 

“Really? I can’t manage without it.” Arthur sat down beside him again and retrieved his own cup from Francis, taking a sip from it. Francis just looked at him with a smile. Arthur had revealed so much for him today. The man he had originally thought scary and brutish, also had a much softer side, a normal person who enjoyed to read books and to drink tea. A man who liked to rile up people, but at the same time always said what was on his mind. Francis had met nothing but honesty here. Strong, unwavering power, but also honesty and standing up for what he believed in. And despite his bony nose he had some sort of attractive charm, which Francis could not escape for the life of him. Arthur was simply captivating. 

“Looks as if the rain has stopped.”

Francis had to blink a few times before he saw Arthur fixated on the window behind him and turned around. The grey sky of clouds was still there, albeit further away, and the rain had halted, leaving the landscape bare for them to view. It was mostly flat, and everything had a dirty, dark green colour. It varied between trees and marsh and everything looked… wet. He could see why the railroad had chosen to avoid this area. Out in the distance, they could see the clouds ease up and blending over to a dark night sky. 

“It’s late.” Arthur finished his tea and rose from his seat. “We should go to bed. It will be a long day tomorrow, so better get some rest while you can. Do you need to borrow the shower again?”

“Ah, thanks, but I’ll be all right for now.” Francis quickly downed his own tea and gave it back to Arthur before he bent down to get the dinner plates. “I’ll take these to the galley before going to sleep.”

“Thanks.” 

Francis rose and went over to the door while Arthur followed him. They stood awkwardly together for a few seconds before they bid each other ‘good night’. Arthur closed the door behind Francis as he walked over the deck towards the other door. The air was raw and a bit chilly, and the boards were still wet from the downpour. Francis noticed the ship had still not increased its speed, but he guess it must be too late in the evening for that. After bringing the plates to the galley and scrubbing them – he felt bad just leaving them for Peter in the morning – he went over to the sleeping quarters again. He fell asleep in his hammock to the snores of the rest of the crew, but with a smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot will pick up in the next chapters.


	5. City of Outlaws

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Francis gets a taste of the dangerous side, and realizes something important.

Francis awoke harshly due to someone shaking his hammock and yelling at him. He groggily opened one eye and tried not to fall to the floor while he frantically moved to sit up straight. Something which proved almost impossible while that person was shaking him and the hammock was moving. A look to his side told him that it was in fact Gilbert who had taken it upon himself to rattle him awake him this morning. 

“What the hell, Gilbert?” The man in question finally noticed that Francis had woken up when he heard him speak and ceased with the shaking. “What’s the time?”

Gilbert snickered down at him and put him hands on the hips, in a stance. 

“It’s way too late, is what it is. Damn, I never met anyone who sleeps for as long as you do. Late night?”

“No?” Francis sighed resigned. “Gilbert, what is going on?”

“Well, you missed the docking, we’re already at Doveport. We got here earlier than we’d thought though. Now it’s about noon and most of the crew had already been let loose in the city.”

“And… Arthur?”

“Already gone.”

Francis tried to not feel disappointed, or make Gilbert think he was disappointed, but he still felt a dropping sensation in his stomach. 

“And why are you still here?” 

“Because today I have the honour of babysitting you. Again. I guess Arthur was tired from yesterday and needed a break.” Gilbert barked out his recognisable hoarse laughter. “Can’t have you getting yourself lost in Doveport, now can we? Someone like you would never make it out alive.”

“Oh, really? Did Arthur not tell you that I beat him in a sword fight two days ago?”

“Seriously? Damn, nice. All right, you might not be totally useless then, but you still should watch out in this city. It’s best to stick with me regardless. Now come on! Can’t sleep the day away, I have things to do!”

“Yes, yes, quit nagging, I’m going to get changed.” Francis shoved Gilbert away and stepped out of the hammock as gracefully as he could manage. The mechanic gave a wave before he exited the room. Now, Francis had to retrieve his own clothes from where he had hanged them up to dry. He almost didn’t want to change out of Arthur’s spare clothes. They weren’t much to look at but were comfortable enough. And they smelled good… 

Francis walked out of the sleeping quarters and into the hallway. He couldn’t see Gilbert anywhere, so he assumed he had already proceeded to the deck. Francis continued down the hallway to the washing room. There he found his clothes still hung up on the cord. He felt the textile to see if they were dry enough to wear. His clothes had been quite expensive and hence the fabric was rich and did not dry easily. Fortunately for him it seemed they were no longer wet. He discarded Arthur’s clothes on the floor and went along dressing up in his own trousers, shirt, vest and jacket. The piece of paper from before was fished out of the trousers on the floor and stuffed into the clean ones. 

When he walked up on the deck he was met with quite the sight. Unlike Irragin, which was located on a cliff, this city was in a deep valley. Francis could understand how this place had become a safe haven for outlaws. It was almost completely surrounded by mountains that narrowed in on both ends where a small river flowed through. The ship was docked along the mountainside with a view of it all. It seemed as if there were docking-stations all along the mountainside, probably convenient for a quick get-away, which contained ships in all variations and sizes. 

Francis went over to the railing of the ship that faced the valley and leant over it. He would say the city was of medium size and not particularly appealing. He could clearly see steam and smoke rise from in-between the tall buildings. With a deep intake of breath, Francis smelt the air. It couldn’t be more than eighteen degrees outside, although they were currently up in the mountain so it was probably warmer down in the city. The smell surprised Francis. Instead of that fresh mountain air you would presume this place should have, he was met with the smell of something dirty. A smell that reminded him of when the company responsible for picking up the garbage suddenly decided to postpone it a few weeks and the trash was left to rot. 

Francis lost his breath as someone suddenly smacked him on his back. When he looked up, Gilbert was standing to his right, gazing out at the city with a smile plastered on his face. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

“Well, I don’t-”

“What are you waiting for, come on! Let’s go!” Gilbert ignored what he was going to say and physically dragged him across the deck to the side facing the dock. They went down the boarding and onto the platform beneath. Over at the end of the dock there was a carriage Francis soon realized belonged to a gondola lift. Slightly amazed by the device, Francis clung to the railing as they slowly descended the mountainside and headed towards the edge of the city. Gilbert seemed to have no problem at all with the steep decent or the wind blowing in their hair. 

“Hey, where’s Peter?”

“Oh, he already left by himself about an hour ago.”

“Alone?” Francis whipped around to look horrified at him. Then his face suddenly shifted into a deadpan stare. “Hey, wait. He can go alone, but I can’t?”

“That’s right!” Gilbert grinned at him. “Peter has been here countless times before, he knows his way around. You on the other hand… well, I won’t be letting you out of my sight any time soon, to put it like that.”

“I hate pirates.” Francis returned to look at the view as they steadily went down towards the town. As they came closer, Francis could see that most of the buildings, although tall, looked old and weary and overall witnessed a lack of good maintenance. However, it didn’t seem to bother the people. The ground between the buildings was crawling with them. There were people everywhere, more so than if this had been a normal city of the same size. 

The gondola lift came to a halt at the very edge of town, between two buildings, and the two of them stepped out. The smell of garbage was even more prominent down here, Francis noticed. 

“So, what’s the plan?” Francis took a deep breath and placed his hands on his hips, ready to take anything this city could throw at him. It wasn’t that he disliked Gilbert’s company, no, he rather enjoyed it. It was just that he’d much rather prefer to be in the company of the ship’s captain, and he was still a bit hurt that Arthur would leave without telling him this morning. Although, Arthur was under no obligation to tell him anything, whatsoever. He didn’t owe him anything and he had no reason to do so. Still, Francis would have appreciated it. 

“There’s no real plan actually. But you always find something worth your while down here. Come on, let’s go to the market first!” Gilbert took a large step out towards the town with a grin and expected Francis to follow. Which he absolutely did. Although he earlier had complained or boasted about being strong and capable to defend himself, he was still a bit uneasy about being left alone here. 

They walked in between the city’s blocks and had to force their way between clusters of people going back and forth. There were people here of all kinds, Francis noticed. Some were in rags, some in your usual pirate, bandit, or gunslinger attire, and a few had what he would describe as the clothes of an aristocrat, which was similar to himself. There were both women, men, and children in the streets. Many of them had some sort of mechanical prosthetic, either an arm or a leg, or sometimes just an eye. Francis had been correct in assuming that it was a lot warmer down in the city. With all the people scurrying everywhere and the steam from various buildings, the heat was definitely noticeable. After they passed a few blocks Gilbert changed their course towards the right and they walked a few blocks that way. It was obvious Gilbert had hung out here a lot as well, in that way he moved between all the people, read their movements. Francis almost struggled to keep up, constantly bumping into strangers. 

“It’s a good thing you don’t have anything worth stealing, or it would have been gone already.” Gilbert grinned back at him. Francis just huffed and rolled his eyes. It was hard to even hear what the other said as the space around them was constantly invaded by shouts, yelling, bargaining and chatter. 

They took a left through a narrow alleyway. At one place along the walls stood a pair of men violently arguing and at a place further down there was an old woman on the ground who grabbed after his clothes and cried as he walked past. Francis swallowed a lump in his throat. The alleyway opened up and there they were. Well, Francis assumed it as there. The blocks were traded in for a huge open space filled to the brim with stalls, and there were people moving like ants between everything. Francis halted. The noises were even more prominent here than they had been in the outskirts of town. He became standing still a moment just taking in the atmosphere. 

When he then looked over to his right to say something to Gilbert, the man had vanished. Francis felt his heart suddenly drop to the bottom of his stomach and panic reached his thoughts. He almost had half a mind to go back to the gondola lift and just wait until someone he knew came back, but for all he knew that could take the entire day. So, Francis took a deep breath and steeled himself before he marched into the crowd, on the look-out for the pale mechanic. 

Francis whirled between stalls and people alike while he tried to spot a mop of white hair. You’d think he’d be easy to find, but to Francis it seemed as Gilbert had just disappeared straight down into the ground. He found he had not yet gotten the hang of moving through the city as he kept being pushed around and squeezed between people. He could see how it was an easy job to pick-pocket here. After about fifteen minutes of searching, Francis gave up on sight alone and began shouting Gilbert’s name. It seemed as if that as well would prove fruitless, but as Francis passed a stall that sold watches someone grabbed hold of him and dragged him behind it. Francis panicked and lashed out at his attacker but was stopped. When he got a good look at the man who had charged him, he saw that it was Gilbert. Fuming, he was about to yell at him for jumping innocent people out of nowhere, but the look on his face stopped him. Gilbert held a finger to his mouth and had a focused look on his face. Something was going on. Francis felt the hair on his neck rise and a chill run down his back. 

Gilbert stuck his head out from behind the watch-stall and scouted around. When he came back down he spoke with a stern and hushed voice. 

“Stop yelling my name all over the place, will you?”

“Well! If someone hadn’t just left me all alone here, I might not have had to do that.” Francis bit back with bitterness. 

“Sure, blame me for your mistakes.” Gilbert rolled his eyes. “Just stay quiet.”

“Why? Why are we hiding?” Francis raised an eyebrow as the other carefully looked around the place. 

“It’s just that I think I saw someone that I’d rather not run into today. Or any other day for that matter. So, when you are yelling my name all over the place that kind of fucks it over for me, you know?”

“Really?” Francis looked unimpressed. “That’s why we are hiding?”

“Yes, it is. Listen, he is not a nice man and I might have pissed him off by winning over him in a game of cards. With Arthur’s help mind you.” 

“You can’t go around being scared to meet this man your whole life, you know.”

“I’m not! I’m usually far up in the sky on a ship! I don’t have to meet anyone I don’t want to up there.”

“All right, fair point.” Francis huffed. “Let’s just go okay? I’m sure he won’t notice you with all these people around. And it really helps to keep moving.” 

Gilbert sighed but nodded affirmatively. The two of them went out from behind the stall and this time they kept together. They walked around the marketplace, looking at the goods they sold. Gilbert was still on the alert, but gradually relaxed visibly when nothing happened after a while. You could literally find anything here, Francis discovered, from fruit and vegetables to tools and perfumes. They made a stop by a stall that sold books because Gilbert wanted to see if they had anything on biomechanics or something similar. However, they had to leave emptyhanded and slightly disappointed. 

“Perhaps you should look to see if they sell some booklet over at the stalls with the tools?”

“I guess it might be worth a shot. Let’s g-”

“Hey, isn’t that the first mate? Smith?” Francis pointed at a man further down the path. Gilbert followed his finger and nodded.

“Yep. Let’s take another way.” He guided them down the right instead of continuing toward the pirate. Now on their way to the other stall, Francis spoke up.

“You don’t like him?”

“Fuck no, I despise him.”

“But Arthur-”

“Arthur only pretends to like him, and he’s not even very good at it. I don’t know if he told you but Alfred was originally going to be first mate. But when he left Arthur had to pick Smith because the rest of the crew favoured him. Arthur complied just to not risk a mutiny. Smith has great support in the crew, but Arthur’s better than him at leading, planning and just generally taking care of stuff. Arthur is the one with all the connections everywhere. And Smith pisses me off. There’s just something about him I don’t like. He thinks he’s too important.” Gilbert waved his hand about. 

“Really? I never got that impression.”

“Yeah, because you’ve never actually talked to him.” 

Francis huffed. 

“Whatever you say. I still don’t think Arthur hates him.”

“Maybe not, but he doesn’t like him.” 

“Hmm… what is Arthur doing now anyway?” Francis kicked at a stone in front of him while they walked. 

“Probably buying us food and stuff for the next weeks, why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. Is he going all alone?”

“Yeah? The guy can take care of himself, you know.” Gilbert looked over at Francis, almost hesitating. “But… the two of us usually go drinking in the evening every time we’re here. You could probably come this time as well if you want to.” 

“Sure.” Francis had to hide a small smile as they strolled along the path between stalls. 

Finally, they reached their destination. And fortunately, one of the stalls with tools sold some booklets as well. They went through about four of them before they even found something that resembled biomechanics. Francis really didn’t know much about the subject, but it was apparently interesting enough for Gilbert to buy the booklet. He paid the price and stuffed the item in an inner pocket of his leather coat.

After half about an hour later Francis began complaining that he was hungry. He hadn’t even eaten in the morning and they had walked quite a bit, so Gilbert decided to buy them some food. Although, Francis had to promise to repay him when he got his money. After eating some buns from a stall that sold baked goods, Gilbert bought some notebooks. He explained that he needed them for his research and notes. They were walking along the very edge of the marketplace, right where the blocks began again and an alley went further into the heart of the city, when Gilbert suddenly stopped.

“Fuck, hang on. I forgot to buy pencils.” Gilbert began walking back where they had come from while he yelled over his back. “Just wait here and I’ll be right back.” 

Francis huffed and rolled his eyes. Although, Gilbert was quite structured, he could be extremely easy to distract at times. Francis leant against the brick wall that marked the beginning of the more urban parts of the city. To his left there was an alley in between the two buildings. As he stood there, he was surprised by a voice sounding out right beside him. He jumped and turned around.

“Nice coat you got there.” A toothy grin emerged from the shadows. Francis felt his pulse raise as he discovered three figures coming out from the shadows in the alley. Two of them were a few centimetres taller than Francis and the first one about the same height as him. They didn’t appear to be beggars or tramps; their clothes gave away that they might be gunslingers or the likes. Whatever the case, they did not look friendly and Francis took a step back. The three men followed. 

“I said: that’s a nice coat you got there.”

“Erhm, thank you?” Francis instinct told him to run, but Gilbert had told him to stay, and he didn’t want to lose sight of him again. So, he stood his ground. 

“It looks good on you. Really compliments your hair, you know.” The man bared his toothy grin again. “But. I think it would look even better on me.” 

“You should go buy your own then.” Francis stuck up his nose and clenched his fists by his hips. He wasn’t about to let these thugs do as they pleased and get away with it. 

“Oh, you hear that, boys? This one’s not such a chicken after all.” The men laughed, guttural sounds emitting from their hideous mouths. They had probably never brushed their teeth in their entire lives, Francis thought. The first one addressed him again. “Yeah, I could do that. But the thing is: I want your coat, girly.” 

Francis felt a chill run down his back as they all chuckled at the nickname. He felt so small in front of these men. He didn’t even know if he could take them all down by himself. The only thing he could do was wait for Gilbert to come back. Maybe then they’d stand a chance. 

Suddenly, Francis was jolted out of his thoughts as the man who had done all the talking, grabbed him. He slammed him against the brick wall in the alley so hard that Francis lost his breath. The man leaned on his hands, keeping Francis in place. All the while with that sickening grin on his face. 

“Hey, you don’t actually smell that bad, girly.” He sniffed the air and Francis twisted his head away to avoid the man’s face. “And look at that hair! You really know how to take of yourself, don’t ya?” His buddies laughed. 

“Get your hands off me.” Francis growled at him and tried to shove him away, but the man was heavier than him so the attempt was useless. 

“That’s not gonna happen. Now, I think we should get some compensation for the trouble you’ve caused us. Besides the coat, you know.” Their smiles grew even more vicious, and Francis could feel his own heart up in his throat. “Do you have anything else of value, girly?”

“No, I don’t”

“Hah! ‘Course you don’t. But I think I’d like to check myself, just to be safe.” The man winked at him and Francis had never felt so hopeless before as when the man began patting him down. His stumpy hand moved down his side, feeling him, and all the way down to his hip. 

“Don’t.” Francis gulped as the man went further down. He was powerless to stop him. Francis was about to just close his eyes and wait for it all to be done with when he saw a fourth figure walk up behind them, hidden in the shadows. Great, now he had absolutely no chance whatsoever to overpower them. But, as the figure came out of the shadows, Francis became aware of the strikingly green eyes, practically glowing with anger. A low voice spoke up.

“Hey. What do you think you’re doing?” The anger was seeping into the words and made the trio turn around to face the stranger. 

“None of yer business, dipstick.” The man barked back, still holding onto Francis.

“Are you sure about that?” The figure stepped forth so he was fully out of the shadows and stared down the gang. Francis felt his heart take a leap at the sight of that big, black, broad-brimmed hat and the fluttering red coat. Arthur looked absolutely infuriated, his huge eyebrow drawn together tightly. Francis almost wanted to cry because of how relieved he felt at that moment. “You might want to double-check who you’re messing with.”

The man let go of Francis, who did not dare move from the spot, and faced the pirate captain fully, getting into a fighting stance. Both of his buddies did the same.

“Hey, you’re that pirate, right? Kirkland? Yeah, I know about you. You probably ain’t shit without your crew though.” They all laughed as they closed in on him. “If girly over here is part of you crew, you might want to start thinking about another choice of career.” 

They all chuckled again but was soon silenced by a fist to the mouth. The man stumbled back, holding himself at his jaw and swore. The two others then jumped at Arthur with great speed. The pirate delivered a swift kick to the stomach of the man to his right. The other one punched, but Arthur ducked and then retaliated with a blow to the throat. As the two henchmen were currently out of play, whining and swearing, the first man went at Arthur again and managed to land a punch to his face. Arthur was forced to go down on one knee, but still managed to duck the next punch that came and jam a fist up into the attacker’s balls. As he rose up again, he kneed the now kneeling man in the head. Which was apparently enough to knock him out. The two others stood still, hesitating now that their leader was out cold. 

Arthur straightened up and took a step over the unmoving body before him, completely ignoring the two others, and went over to where Francis still stood glued against the brick wall. With a firm grip on his shoulder, Arthur shoved him along in front of him, out of the alley. Francis weren’t able to do anything but follow his lead. His heart still beat too fast for that. When they came out on the path by the block again, Arthur let go.

“Gilbert really is useless, isn’t he? He can’t do the one thing I tell him to do.” Arthur growled. “You all right?”

“Y-Ye-Yeah, I’m fine.” Francis just stared at his saviour. He had so many mixed feelings at that point, he didn’t know how to name them all. His insides were a mess. 

“Are you sure? You don’t look that way?” Arthur stepped in front of him, really looking at him, and Francis felt his pulse skyrocket. Then he noticed that Arthur had gotten a deep cut over his right eye, which still was bruised from two days ago. That made him snap out of the state he was in.

“Arthur! You’re bleeding!”

Arthur looked surprised at the outburst and took a hand up to feel the damage, only to have it come down bloody. 

“Apparently so.” He didn’t seem agitated or worried about it at all, something that really irked Francis. 

“Why the hell did you do that? Now you’re hurt!” Francis chose to focus on the anger he felt bubble up inside him. “That was very unnecessary and irresponsible of you, what if you couldn’t have taken down all of them?”

“Oh, I’m sorry if that inconvenienced you, Bonnefoy.” Arthur bowed in mockery, clearly irritated by Francis reaction. “I’ll be more careful next I beat the crap out of someone who threatens you. And please, do you really think those thugs could have beaten me? What do you take me for?” 

“Yes, please do be more careful.” Francis huffed and turned his nose up in the air. At that point Gilbert came walking down the path and waved as he saw them.

“Yo! Arthur, you’re here. Finished already?” He came to stand beside the two of them, slowly becoming aware of the tension between them.

“Fuck you, Gilbert!” Arthur now took his anger out on the mechanic. “Why the bloody hell can’t you do as I tell you for once? Where the fuck have you been?! You were supposed to watch him.”

“Hey, I just left him alone for a few minutes, calm down. It was just a short trip for- hey, wait. What happened to your face?”

“None of your fucking business!” Arthur was almost boiling over, clearly frustrated, all the while Francis just stood there in silence with a deep frown on his face and refused to look at either of them. He had no problem identifying this feeling. It was guilt. Guilt for getting Arthur hurt and guilt for getting Gilbert yelled at because he just couldn’t stay out of trouble. 

“All right then, you don’t have to yell.” Gilbert raised an eyebrow at the captain, who only huffed and crossed his arms. “Maybe we should go back to the ship to get you stitched up? And buy some dinner, because I don’t think anyone is eating back there tonight.”

“Sure. I had the supplies be taken there in the morning, so we’ll be set to take off around one or two o’clock tomorrow.”

“Good, one less thing to worry about.” Gilbert grinned and smacked Arthur on his back. “Come on then.”

They all began heading back towards the ship again, Gilbert and Arthur walked in the front and Francis followed. Arthur even refused to look at him as he scudded behind them, something which made his chest hurt. Francis felt idle. Frustrated that there was nothing he could do. He didn’t do anything back then, and he couldn’t do anything now. Blood had flowed down Arthur cheek so that Francis could easily spot it while he looked at the pirate. That blood was his fault. And he hadn’t even thanked him. No wonder Arthur was mad at him. However, Francis was quite mad himself as well. Mad that Arthur absolutely had to defend him like that, that he couldn’t do it himself. Mad that Arthur got hurt because of him. Mad that Arthur wouldn’t look at him. He supposed that last part was mainly a result of the other things though. Francis took a deep breath to calm himself, the smell of garbage wasn’t nearly as prominent now as he had grown used to it. 

They took another route back to the gondola lift than he and Gilbert had taken. The two pirates were obviously well known here, having been here many times. On their way they stopped to buy some hamburgers, which they apparently sold a lot of here, to take with them. It must have been about four or five in the evening when they reached the lift. There was still a great deal of people everywhere in the streets. The ride up was very awkward. Arthur and Francis both refused to look at each other while Gilbert tried to talked to them. Well up on the ship, the trio went into Arthur’s cabin to get the casket in which the captain had the medical tools. Gilbert sat Arthur down in his chair while he looked through the tools, now lying on the desk, and Francis stood beside him with crossed arms. 

“Hmm.” Gilbert rubbed his chin as he examined the cut. “You might have to get a few stings.”

“It can’t be that bad?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at the mechanic. It looked like it hurt though, because the cut was right over his eyebrow and hindered his motions a bit. 

“Well, I’m not an expert, but it looks deep enough. What do you think, Francis?” Gilbert caught him off guard, but he still collected himself good enough to manage an answer. 

“Err, yes I would say so as well.” 

“Great! Then that’s settled. Francis, you begin stitching that cut up and I’ll go get some alcohol.”

“Wha-” Francis stood in shock a second while Gilbert strode out the door, leaving the two of them to themselves. With a sigh, Francis moved so that he was facing Arthur and propped himself up on the desk so he could have a better angle. With a frown he began with fetching a needle and thread and some water he poured on the wound. Arthur still refused to look at him, which added to the frustration he was already feeling and his frown only grew.

“Hey. Look at me.” Reluctant green eyes moved to meet his own. There was a spark there, and Francis gripped Arthur’s jaw in his left hand and stared intently at him. “I’m mad at you.”

“Well, I’m fucking mad at you as well!” Arthur growled as Francis squeezed. 

“I’m mad you got hurt because of me. You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to save me when I fell overboard that day either, but you still did. I’m mad that you keep risking your life for mine. Stop it. I won’t be able to repay you.” Francis growled back at him and tightened his grip as he led the needle towards the cut. Arthur was quiet except a few winces while Francis stitched him up. It ended up being six stings in total. As he finished that last stitch, Gilbert returned with the liquor. After he poured some on the wound Arthur were allowed to take a few swings at it. 

“You’re going to look like a real outlaw if you keep getting marks like that.” Gilbert snickered as he pointed at Arthur’s injuries. 

“No more than you, git.” Arthur’s response was without no real bite, and he seemed rather tired.

“Hey, let’s rest up a bit before we go out tonight, all right? You look like you need it.” Gilbert winked as he got up and took the liquor with him towards the door. “I’ll go down to the machinery in the meantime. Come get me when you’re ready.”

“Sure.”

That left Francis and Arthur alone in the room once again when Gilbert was gone. The silence dragged on, and Francis was unsure what more he could say to explain himself. Then, Arthur rose form his chair and scuttled over to the bed in the room, a tired walk and he slouched his shoulders.

“Hey, do you… want anything?”

“Fuck off.” Arthur collapsed onto the bed and buried his head into the pillows. Francis thought he almost looked like a sulking child. He rose from the desk and went over to sit by the pirate. Hopefully, the alcohol had worked enough on Arthur to make him more receptible for a conversation. Unless he decided to ignore him completely that was. Francis sighed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear.

“Arthur.”

“What?” Arthur groaned into the pillow.

“At least talk to me.” Francis frowned. “I just don’t understand why. You have nothing to gain from helping me. Nothing.”

“Perhaps I’m not doing it to help you.” Arthur sneered. “Perhaps you are not the sole reason I do things? Have you ever considered that? That you’re not the centre of the universe. Perhaps I dived after you that day because I didn’t want anyone to die on my ship? Perhaps I beat up those thugs today because I didn’t appreciate the way they were acting. Do not mistake my intensions, Bonnefoy. I would have done the same for anyone on this ship, it’s just that you’re the only one stupid enough to get yourself in these situations. Just a little gratitude would be appreciated.” Arthur still refused to look at him fully, just glared at him from the corner of his eye. 

Francis hadn’t considered those things. Maybe Arthur was right, maybe he was self-centred. Arthur was just taking care of his crew, which he was sort of a part of now, and Francis had mistaken it for… something else. He had thought this was all his fault, which to a certain degree, it was, but it was also Arthur’s fault. Francis was right: he didn’t have to save him, but he still chose to do so. Because of who he was, and not who Francis was. To do all those things were his own choice. Arthur had acted completely normal, like an ordinary person, and then Francis hadn’t even thanked him for it. He felt like shit. 

“Thank you.” Francis cast his gaze down at the hands in his lap as he continued. “Those guys were… I-I thought I err- I’m very grateful, but I still feel as if I owe you too much now. I promise not to be such a bother in the future. You shouldn’t have to do something like that for me. I appreciate it. But I still feel like I only causing you trouble, and I’m apologize for that.” Francis had his eyes intently fastened on his lap, and a curtain of golden hair was shielding him from Arthur’s gaze. 

“Well… just be more careful from now on.” Arthur had rolled over onto his back and crossed his arms over his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. A far more comfortable silence filled the room. Francis looked down at Arthur with a smile of his lips.

“I think you were right, by the way.”

“Huh, about what?”

“I think they really were after my hair.” He combed through his locks and smirked as Arthur snickered. “You certainly were exceptionally magnificent back there, dear.” Francis grinned as Arthur turned his head to the side and he saw a blush creeping up his face.

“W-Whatever.” Arthur scoffed. 

“Anyway! Gilbert was right, you do look exhausted. Perhaps try to get some sleep, and I’ll be back soon.” Francis smiled down at him as he rose from his spot on the edge of the bed and began walking towards to exit. Arthur just nodded and rolled over, and the last thing he saw before closing the door, was that unruly mop of blonde hair. 

The ship was almost empty. Gilbert probably had been right in assuming everyone weren’t going to eat here this evening. Not even Peter was back yet. Francis wondered what the hell that boy could be up to in this city so late in the evening, it was already past five. It was quiet, and Francis found himself longing for some company. He was a social person. So, he figured he could go see how Gilbert was doing. He went down the set of stairs and entered the machinery which Gilbert had made his home. The mechanic was slouched out over his old and worn couch, fiddling with something small in his hands. 

“What are you doing?” Francis questioned as he walked closer. Gilbert looked briefly up at him before he concentrated on his work once again.

“Just doing some adjustments to Gilbird. He hasn’t been feeling well lately.”

“Oh? How so?” Francis sat down on the floor in front of him, which somehow seemed cleaner than the couch.

“Hard to tell. Maybe he’s just unhappy being down here all the time. So, I’ve decided to give him that jetpack I was talking about earlier. Hopefully, that’ll cheer him up a bit, to be able to fly around.”

“Hmm, yes. Hey, speaking of flight, have you made any progress on my wings?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m still missing some finetuning though, so it’s not quite ready to fly yet.”

“Great. Those weren’t exactly cheap so I’d hate for them to be ruined after just one flight.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can fix about everything.” Gilbert grinned. “I’m just that awesome.”

“Clearly.” Francis smiled. 

While Gilbert continued to work on his pet-bird, Francis took a stroll around the machinery to look at what made the ship go. Of course, it all stood still at the moment because they were docked, but it was nonetheless admirable to look at. Huge clogs and pipes were everywhere, making the whole thing come together. After a while though, Francis became restless. 

“Hey, Gilbert. What’s the time?”

“About a quarter past six. Oh, yeah, maybe we should get going.” Gilbert got up from the couch and sat Gilbird down on it instead. The bird moved his head and chirped. From beside the couch Gilbert fetched the same alcohol bottle he had given to Arthur earlier, and took a swing of it before giving it over to Francis. “Here. The more you drink before going out, the cheaper it is to get drunk. Well, not that you’re paying anyway. Cheaper for me and Arthur I mean.”

Francis raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, but still accepted the bottle. He took a gulp out of it as well, and he could tell this was definitely of the heavier stuff. The percentage had to be around forty or something. He coughed when he was done. Yes, he certainly didn’t have to empty his hosts’ wallets now. 

“Come on, let get Arthur.” 

They sprinted up the stairs, onto the deck and into the captain’s cabin. There they found Arthur asleep in his bed. He looked so peaceful like that. So relaxed. Francis noticed that the skin had swelled around the fresh cut. Gilbert didn’t seem to care however, when he grabbed him and shook him violently. Francis got a flashback to something similar that had happened earlier that day.

Arthur groaned as he slowly became more awake by the second. He blinked his eyes open and got a look at his spectators. 

“Wot?” Arthur tried to rub his face but winced when he came close to the stitched wound. 

“Come on! We’re going out now, so grab your wallet and follow me.” Gilbert grabbed his arm and physically dragged him out of bed and onto his own feet.

“Sure.” Arthur looked resigned at his mate, but still had a small smile on his face. 

Together, they all went over to the gondola lift again and began their decent. This time the mood wasn’t tense, and Francis actually enjoyed joking with Gilbert and listening to their conversations. The sun had already begun to set, orange and red colours were lighting up the sky. Francis had to admit that this city of outlaws certainly had its charm. Down on the ground, Gilbert showed the way, leading them through the outskirts of the town and towards the west. They were apparently going to a small joint which the other two had frequented in the past. The joint was in the basement of one of the blocks, with a staircase leading down to it out on the street. There were fewer people out in the city at this point, but there still was a few who loitered around the entrance to the joint. They were laughing and shouting among themselves as the trio shuffled passed them and down the concrete stairs. The door was made of metal, and the whole place didn’t appear very… inviting, Francis thought as Gilbert pushed it open. Inside, there was a bar at the very back of the room while the rest of the space was filled up with round tables and chairs. There wasn’t much there in terms of décor, just old posters on the red brick walls. The place looked worn and frequented. There already was a handful people in there, enjoying their drinks and smoking cigarettes. Behind the bar stood a woman who had to be in her late forties, with a broad figure and brown hair made into a messy bun at the back of her head. 

“All right! First round is on me.” Gilbert exclaimed and headed straight for the bar. Arthur and Francis found a table over to the corner away from the entrance and sat down. It didn’t take long before Gilbert came back with three mugs with something filling them to the brim. While Arthur took one and began downing the beverage, Francis was more precautious. 

“And what is this?” He raised an eyebrow.

“This.” Gilbert answered with a huge grin on his face. “This is a pirate’s best friend. Coke and rum.”

Francis wasn’t completely convinced, but still tried a sip. He almost winced. It was definitely more rum than anything else. When he looked up he saw that Gilbert and Arthur had already drunk a fair share from their mugs. Francis decided to follow their example and take another gulp. The goal for tonight was to get wasted. He really needed that at this point. He put down his mug and saw the others looking at him.

“You might want to slow down, Francis.” Gilbert smirked. “This is nothing like that beer we had a few nights ago. I’m certain there is way more percentage in this.”

“Oh, calm down. I’m a responsible drunk.” He winked back. “As opposed to someone else here.”

“Hey! I don’t understand why everyone says that. I’m not that bad, all right.” Arthur glared at him. 

“Yes, I’m sure. First time I go drinking with you and I end up have to carry you back to the ship. Not to mention you got into a fight Gilbert had to finish for you.”

“That was just a bad night.” Arthur uttered between gritted teeth. “I’m sure you’re not that steady after a few shots as you’ll have us believe. I think you’re all talk and no bite.” He glared challenging. Francis slammed his hand onto the table.

“Oh, I’ll bite.” Francis glared back at the captain. “But I don’t have any money on me right now, so…”

Arthur huffed, but still stood up and emptied his mug before he walked over to the bar. Gilbert stared at Francis with a mischievous smirk.

“Really? You’re challenging him to a drinking contest? You know he’s so competitive he won’t stop until he’s passed out on the floor.”

“Of course, Gilbert! I can’t have him doubting my honour.” Francis gave Gilbert a confident smile. He could feel the alcohol starting to work on him, and the feeling of that he could do anything swelled in him. No way was he going to lose to Arthur on this. Gilbert just laughed and banged their mugs together and then finished his.

“Count me in then!”

Arthur came back to the table with three small shot-glasses filled to the brim with a transparent green liquid. He sat down and then they took a glass each, banged them together and downed them. At this point Francis had decided he would drink anything they could buy him and care little for the colour. Although, the taste wasn’t bad, the liquor burned down the inside of his throat and he hissed as he put the glass down on the table. Francis looked back up at his companions and could see that Arthur had gotten a nice red flush in his cheeks and Gilbert was laughing his usual raspy laugh. Clearly, they were all quite influenced by this point. That rum really did the trick, and he supposed they would be feeling the shot very soon as well. 

“So, how you feeling, Francis?” Arthur smirked at him from across the table.

“I’m completely fine, Arthur. I think you’ll be losing this game. Just like you lost to me in our duel.” Francis sent a smug smile his way.

“And who is so unsteady on their feet even when sober, that they managed to fall of a ship in mid-flight?” Arthur shot back. “You’ll definitely be going down before me.” 

“Oh, I’ll be going down on you. No, fuck, wait! You’ll be going down on m- fuck!” Francis wanted to shoot himself in the head. He’d never blushed this bad in his entire life. Why did the alcohol have to kick in for real right now? Francis panicked and rose from his seat, leaning on his hands over the table. “Fuck off! I hate you!”

Gilbert was almost dying of laughter, lying across the table and howling, and Arthur looked very confused. As if he didn’t know how to feel about all of this, but he still blushed a bit more. At that moment they became aware of the click of a gun, and they all snapped out of it. Francis and Gilbert looked up at the figure standing directly behind Arthur, a pistol pointing at his head. Arthur sat perfectly still, but you could see he was alert of any movements. The mysterious figure spoke up.

“I knew we saw you two at the market today! Hey, Ivan, didn’t I tell you?” A second, and a lot taller, figure came up behind the first one. 

“Oh. Looks like you were right, Yao. I’m sorry.” The taller, Ivan, rubbed the back of his neck and smiled apologetically. Then, Arthur cleared his throat and spoke up, still without looking at the duo.

“Greetings, Yao, Ivan. And what event brings you two here this lovely evening?”

At that Yao poked his pistol angrily into the back of Arthur’s head, and both Gilbert and Francis jolted a bit.

“What do you think, asshole?! You cheated in that card game! We want our money back.” The shorter man, Yao, had his long dark brown hair tied into a ponytail and a top hat, which rested on his head adorned with a pair of goggles. He wore a red shirt with a dark vest over, a shoulder pad, and a pair of trousers the same colour as the vest. Around his waist was a belt with the holster he had drawn his gun from.

“Just because you lost doesn’t mean we cheated. Now, now, don’t be a sore loser, Yao.” Arthur was perfectly calm in his chair. Francis didn’t understand it at all. Even Gilbert seemed unnerved. 

“Fuck off, Kirkland! We know you cheated.” Yao growled. 

Arthur shoved his chair back slowly and rose from his seat to turn against the intimidating duo currently threatening his life. He was taller than Yao, but still shorter than Ivan by far.

“It wasn’t even that much money.” Yao shoved the pistol against his forehead. No one else in the joint seemed to even acknowledge what was happening. Arthur softened his voice. “Listen, what I mean is that that can’t be the only reason you’ve come to kill us over? Why don’t we buy you some drinks, the equivalent for what we owe you perhaps? And you’ll join us at our table.”

Francis sat with his heart in his throat while Arthur spoke, but he calmed down when Yao began lowering his pistol.

“All right, but just because we are here for a drink anyway.” He grabbed a chair as placed himself between Arthur and Francis. Ivan sat down in between the captain and Gilbert. “I’ll take a shot, Kirkland.”

“I’ll take one as well.” Ivan smiled. He was wearing what looked like a thick coat lined with fur along the brim and had a grey scarf around his neck. How he did not overheat in this environment Francis did not understand.

Arthur bowed courteously before disappearing over to the bar again. 

“So, who’s this guy? One of you?” Yao pointed at Francis.

“He’s just a guest.” Gilbert answered while he constantly looked over at Ivan with an uneasy gaze. It became clear to Francis that these were the guys Gilbert had claimed he saw at the market earlier that day. Seemed he was right to worry. Arthur returned with a tray this time, and five shot glasses on top. This time, however, the liquid was purple. 

“Here you go, my friends.” Arthur smirked while Gilbert huffed. Still, they all raised their glasses and cheered before draining them. 

“Ah, I needed that.” Yao breathed out and slumped in his chair.

“You don’t say?” Arthur mockingly raised an eyebrow. “You actually tried to shoot me, Yao. Now, tell us. What is bothering you?”

“Oh, fuck off, Kirkland.” Yao glared. “You know I’m going to kill you one of these days. And then it’ll be your own fault and not your fucking kid.”

Arthur sighed and rubbed the side of his head.

“All right, I’ll bite.” He shot a short glance towards Francis, and he felt his heart do a little flip at that. “What did Alfred do this time?”

“I think the right question would be: what didn’t he do?” Ivan chuckled, seemingly unbothered by the entire situation.

“He keeps ruining everything is what he does! I know we said we’d take him with us on some missions, and he can carry his own weight when it comes to a fight, but he keeps doing things we specifically tell him not to do. Like compromising our situation during crossfires and just barging straight into buildings when we were going to move around it. The list is endless!” Yao slammed his hands into the table. “And we’re meeting up with him again next week.”

“You know I’m not responsible for him anymore. And that’s one thing I’m actually happy for right about now. And I’m guessing you haven’t kicked him off your missions yet because he is actually very useful when push comes to show, eh?”

“Yeah, basically. And Ivan thinks he’s entertaining.”

“I can’t help it.” Ivan smiled apologetically again. “It would be boring without him. It’s fun to see him run around in circles.”

“I’m sorry for you, Yao, I really am.” Arthur couldn’t hide his smirk, and everyone saw it. “But, what do you say to drinking your worries away? It always works for me.”

Now that the tension had calmed significantly, everyone felt more relaxed and they began to feel the alcohol take hold once more. 

“Fine! Bring another round of shots then.” Yao crossed his arms but still allowed a small smile to take form. Arthur gestured for Gilbert to get up, and he did. The others sat while the mechanic went for the shots.

“It’s so nice to see you all again.” Ivan smiled at Arthur. “It’s delightful to meet up with friends once in a while.” Friends was an overstatement, Francis thought.

“Yes, I doubt Gilbert shares the same sentiment.” Arthur grinned, and then added an explanation over the table, directed at Francis. “Ivan beat Gilbert up badly about a year ago, and Gilbert never really got over it.”

“I see.” Francis nodded. “Oh, please. Where are my manners? Let me introduce myself. My name is Francis Bonnefoy, currently tagging along captain Kirkland here and his crew.” He winked and Arthur just rolled his eyes.

“I’m Yao Wang, and this is Ivan Braginski. We’re gunslingers. Nice to meet you, Francis. Hopefully, you’re not as bad as these pirates here.”

Gilbert had returned with the same tray as before, with another round of shot on top. This time they were yellow. They all took one each and poured it down. Francis felt the alcohol burn down his throat and settle in his stomach before the heat spread throughout his body. A quick look at the others told him they were getting affected too: Arthur had dropped his serious demeanour and had regained the flush in his cheeks and that grin, Yao seemed much more relaxed and he too had gotten a flushed face, and Gilbert slowly regained he energic attitude as well. The only one who didn’t look affected was Ivan. He threw back his shots as if they were nothing. That man must be a heavy drinker, Francis thought.

“So, what do you say about another game of cards? A chance to redeem yourselves?” Arthur cheekily addressed the gunslingers. 

“Hah! You won’t fool us a second time, pirate. We’re not buying that one again.” Yao raised an eyebrow. “I still have my pistol with me, just in case you had forgotten.”

“Just because you have a gun doesn’t mean you’ll win every fight.” Arthur smirked back. Francis knew the pirate could pack punch, and he might actually have won a fight against Yao, but then there was Ivan. Something seemed… off about him now that he thought about it. The way he moved was somehow odd. He decided to strike up a conversation with him while Arthur and Yao quarrelled. 

“Hey, Ivan.” The other looked at him. “You don’t seem very affected by the shots. How come? Do you just have a naturally high resistance towards alcohol?”

“Oh, that.” Ivan rubbed the back of his head and looked down at the table. “Yes, alcohol doesn’t work like that on me. However, I used to have a very high resistance before, but… well.” Ivan proceeded to unbutton his giant coat and shook it off his shoulders so his upper torso became bare. And Francis suddenly understood everything. The man wasn’t a man. Completely, anyway. All of his upper torso and arms were replaced by machines. His scarf covered the seam between his human head and metal body. Ivan almost looked sad as he smiled. “My body isn’t what is used to be. I still have some of my original organs, but not everything. I can hit really hard now, though.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” Gilbert mumbled beside him.

“Wow, that’s amazing, Ivan. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it before.” Francis just stared at him in wonder.

“It’s not all bad, I suppose. But I have to wear this coat so the metal doesn’t steal all the heat from my organs, though.” He buttoned up his coat again. Beside them, at the table, Yao and Arthur were laughing together at something they were talking about. Francis shifted his attention over on Arthur and his smile, and he felt… blissful. 

“So, Francis, do you have any secrets?” Ivan smiled down at him from across the table and Francis suddenly felt attacked. 

“Everyone has secrets. But there’s a reason they’re called secrets, you know.” He smirked. “And I don’t think I’d manage to top yours anyway.”

“Touché.” Ivan smiled. “How about I buy the next round?”

“You’re welcome to, but don’t think my tongue will slip that easy.” Francis sat back and folded his arms. Ivan just chuckled and grabbed the tray as he rose from his seat. As he walked to the bar, Yao called out to him.

“Hey! Ivan! No! They are supposed to buy us drinks! Not the other way around.” 

Arthur and Gilbert just laughed at his futile attempt to get his partner to listen. Yao groaned and dropped his head on the table as he saw Ivan was already ordering a new round of shots. 

“Nobody ever listens to me.” His speech was already quite slurred, Francis noticed. Well, people with his genetics were known not to handle alcohol very well. Arthur patted his back and turned towards Francis and grinned triumphantly. 

“Looks like I won’t be losing tonight, Bonnefoy.”

Francis huffed, but with a smile adorning his face.

“And who said he was a part of our competition?” 

“Well, I did.”

“Just so you know you won’t lose to me, right?”

“I’m still going to win over you! Don’t think this change anything.”

“Bring it, Kirkland.” Francis smirked and brushed a lock of golden hair that had fallen in his face out of the way. Arthur switched his attention to Yao again.

“Hey, Yao. How about if you lose, you’re joining my crew?”

Yao shot his head up from the table, suddenly much more awake.

“I’ll never join your band of pirates, Kirkland! Seriously, I’d rather die than join up with you. Even your kid is a stretch, but at least he’s not you.”

“Oh, that sounds fun.” Ivan had returned with the tray and placed it down before he took his seat between Arthur and Gilbert again. “I enjoy being together with lots of people. Maybe we should join, Yao?”

“NO!” Two voices rang out at the same time. Both Gilbert and Yao looked horrified by the thought of it. Yao continued.

“No, Ivan. We are not becoming pirates. And especially not with these people. If you join them, I won’t come with you.” He lifted a threatening finger at his friend.

“Oh, all right then, I won’t join.” Ivan smiled apologetically and raised his hands in surrender. “Someone needs to look out for you too.”

Gilbert let out a relieved breath of air and reached for the shots. 

“And cheers to that!” 

Everyone downed their shots after clinking their glasses together. This time the liquid was blue. Yao seemed to be quite affected by this point, lying over the table and mumbling nonsense to himself in an odd language. Gilbert, however, was getting his spirits back and had begun a loud and intense conversation with Arthur discussing the possibility of keeping some plants aboard the ship. Arthur was surprisingly not opposed to the idea, and then Ivan suggested they should try growing sunflowers. Not for the first time this evening, Francis found himself captivated by the pirate captain. There just was something about him that drew him in. His blond hair, now slightly sweaty, clung to his forehead, his golden earrings swayed when he moved his head, and his green eyes almost sparkled in the sparse lighting at the joint. His moment was, however, broken by a loud snore from the man to his left, face down on the table. Yao had fallen asleep. The others seemed to have noticed as well because the chatter stopped. Gilbert was the first to speak.

“So, are we going for a nachspiel then?”

“A what?” Francis didn’t know what that word was supposed to mean, he’d never heard it before.

“You know, a nachspiel. Like, when you’re bored of being out at the club or bar or whatever, or the bar closes, and you decide to go home and continue the party there, and they who wants to go to bed can do that. Like, an after-party.”

“Oh, sure.” Francis didn’t really get it, but he thought he understood the gist of it. Arthur and Ivan seemed eager enough though. They all rose from their seats, Ivan picked Yao up and hoisted him up over his shoulder with frightening ease, and they could hear those strange mumbled sounds again. As Francis was about to take a step forward he suddenly felt the world spin and he had to support himself on the table to keep himself standing up.

“How’s it going, Bonnefoy?” Came the extremely smug comment from Arthur. “Is it too much for you? We have more alcohol at the ship, you know.”

“I’m not going just to roll over for you, Arthur.” Francis looked up with a challenging smirk and let go of the table. That was just a momentary setback. He could handle everything Arthur threw at him. Gilbert came up on his side and slung an arm over his shoulders while he laughed.

“Then let’s go, boys!”

They moved out from the joint and up the stairs to the streets. Arthur and Ivan, with Yao over his left shoulder, walked in the front while Francis and Gilbert followed. It was much calmer in the city at night. Or, there wasn’t a lot of people in the streets, but you could still hear them. There were shouts, singing and yelling coming from everywhere, muffled only by distance and walls. And in some alleyways, they could see people either having sex, getting beat up or mugged. 

“I know your secret.”

Francis’s brain short-circuited for a moment while he registered what Gilbert had said. He felt a chill run down his back.

“What?”

“Your secret. The one you wouldn’t tell Ivan about.” Gilbert looked at him like it was the most obvious thing. “Listen, I know you’re crushing on Arthur. You’ve been flirting with him all day.” 

“What?” Francis could feel the blood leaving his face. He tried to laugh it away and waved his hands. “No, no, it’s not like that! I can assure you; I don’t think of him in that way. I really don’t.”

Gilbert just smiled calmly before he looked up at their companions walking in front of them and patted Francis on the back.

“Hey. It’s okay. I don’t care if you’re gay.” He sighed, and Francis knew better than to speak. Gilbert reached into his breast pocket and fished out a small, faded photo. “Did you know I have a brother?”

“I didn’t.” Francis received the photo from his friend. There were two boys there, both of them smiling. One was obviously Gilbert with those striking red eyes and white hair, and the other was a bit shorter with blond hair and icy blue eyes. The picture appeared to be taken a few years ago. They both looked very happy. Francis smiled as he gave the photo back.

“He’s the smartest guy I know. He’s a scientist. And. He’s gay. And I love him more than anything in the world. I would do anything for him. I don’t care whether he’s into men or women, he’ll always be my little brother, you know?” Gilbert turned to grin at Francis again. “So, I don’t care if you’re gay, Francis. And I know you have a crush on the captain, so don’t try to deny it. It’s so obvious.” He cackled out his signature laugh. “Good luck with that, by the way.”

Francis didn’t know what to say. It was a lot to take in. Did he have a crush on Arthur? Was that what is was? Everything seemed to make sense now, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fit together. The fluttering in his stomach, the way his heart leaped when their eyes met, and how he lost his breath every time Arthur did something spectacular. But. This couldn’t be happening. This shouldn’t be happening. Francis was soon on the verge of panic. No, no, no. This had to be fake. He couldn’t be falling for a pirate. And the captain nonetheless. Him. This changed everything. Gilbert shook him out of it with a slap on his back.

“Hey. I won’t say anything. I can keep a secret.” Gilbert winked, and Francis tried to press out a smile in return. He knew Gilbert had the best intentions.

Francis was so shaken after that conversation that he didn’t even register where they went before they were already on the gondola lift up to the ship. Gilbert had joined in on a conversation with the other two, but the only thing Francis could do was stare at Arthur. He felt his stomach knot and twist itself, his heartrate sped up, and he felt a blush took place on his cheeks. He really did have a crush on Arthur. 

Finally, they reached the dock and made their way towards the ship. As they walked up the gangway and onto the deck, Arthur shouted orders at Gilbert.

“Go fetch the alcohol and a bucket – I don’t think Yao will escape this one – and meet us in my cabin.” 

“Ay, ay, capt’n!” Gilbert laughed and went down the stair to the other rooms as the rest of them followed Arthur into his cabin. There, Ivan dumped Yao on top of the captain’s bed, and the two of them continued to drag the sofa over so that the left side stood against the desk in the middle of the room, and then they put Arthur’s chair beside it on the other side, facing the sofa. It all made for a nice seating area with the desk as a third wall. Francis was completely out of it and stood there just watching as Arthur took place in his chair and Ivan sat down on the sofa. Then Gilbert burst through the door. He placed the bucket he carried with him down by the bed, so that if Yao begun to throw up, he actually had something to throw up into. In his other hand he had carried with him three bottles with a golden liquid in them. Gilbert placed them on the desk and reluctantly took a place beside Ivan. 

“Francis?” It was Arthur who called him. Francis snapped out of his daze and focused his attention on the pirate. “Are you all right? Perhaps you want to quit while you can still stand?” Francis wanted to kiss that smug look off his face. And just the acknowledgement of that wish turned his brain into porridge. How did this happen? Francis sighed before he went over to the others and sat down beside Gilbert on the sofa. It was a tight fit, but they could manage. 

“All right! Let’s get started!” Gilbert reached for one of the bottles and popped it open before he took a swing of it. He exhaled when he was finished and passed the bottle along to Francis. He sniffed it. This liquor was definitely strong. Fuck it. Francis took a real drag of the bottle, and when he finally finished, over half of it was gone.

“Hey, Francis. You might want to slow down a bit? That’s some heavy stuff.” Gilbert voiced his concern. Arthur looked a bit uncertain as well, however, Ivan watched in anticipation.

“You saying I can’t handle it?” Francis felt the alcohol blur his vision and his head suddenly became foggy. When Arthur stood up and reached for the bottle, Francis hurriedly took another drag from it. 

“You’re going to lose if you keep this up, Francis.” Arthur didn’t appear smug anymore, just worried. Francis hated it. How dared he show these feelings. Francis wasn’t someone Arthur should be concerned over. He didn’t deserve that. 

“And so what?” Francis snapped at him. He rose quickly. Too quickly it appeared, because soon he was on his way down again, forward this time. Arthur managed to grab him before he hit the floor, however. Francis staggered back and tried to ignore the feelings inside. “What?”

Now Arthur held the bottle. He took a quick sip before handing it over to Ivan. 

“Francis, are you sure you don’t want to lay down for a minute?” He raised one of those huge eyebrows.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Francis sat down again, irritation growing strong in him. There was a small pause before Gilbert tried to lighten the mood again. Soon they were all, except Francis, talking and laughing once more. And the bottle kept going around. Although it seemed Gilbert was reluctant to give it to Francis, he still received it. And he still drank his share. Francis just wanted to escape it all. He didn’t want to be there anymore. He just wanted to go home, where things weren’t so complicated. Where he didn’t have to worry about his feelings. And the alcohol helped him do that. He felt his head grow more light and full of cotton by the minute. He was floating on a cloud. The others didn’t matter. Something drew him out from his thoughts. The sound of someone retching. Francis blinked.

“Hey, Ivan. I don’t think your partner is feeling so good.” Gilbert snickered beside him. Ivan sighed.

“I suppose it is time for us to take our leave then.” He stood up and went over to the short man lying in the bed. Fortunately, he had managed to hit the bucket with his vomit and Ivan patted his head. “Come on, Yao. It’s time to go.” He didn’t get much of an answer, but Ivan still grabbed his arm and supported his weight as they made their way out of the cabin. “Goodbye then, pirates. We’ll have to do this again sometime.” 

“Of course, Ivan.” Arthur waved and received a smile in return. When the door closed behind them, Gilbert murmured something.

“I hope not.”

“Oh, Yao will definitely be back.”

“What? Why?”

Arthur smirked.

“He didn’t manage to get his money back, and with that hangover he won’t be out of bed before we’re already gone.”

Gilbert tilted his head back and howled with laughter. 

“That was your plan all along?!” He was weeping. “Gott, Yao will be pissed when he finds out Ivan forgot to collect their money.” 

“Certainly.” Arthur leaned back with a smug expression again. “At least he got some of it back in alcohol.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s going to thank you for that.” Gilbert laughed.

Francis felt himself slowly losing that light feeling he had acquired and stretched after one of the remaining bottles on the desk. However, he ended up further out on his seat than he had counted on, and he fell to the floor. Francis couldn’t feel any pain, just a numbness. But that didn’t stop either Gilbert and Arthur from shooting up and grabbing hold of him to get him back up. He tried to muster out a I’m fine, but on his way up the world began spinning and he felt the contents of his stomach turn violently and before he even knew it, he had vomited on the floor. Francis was staring at it like he didn’t quite understand what had happened, while he was held up by both Arthur and Gilbert from each side. 

“Yuck, gross! Really, Francis? You said you were fine!” Gilbert turned away, getting a bit pale himself by the sight. “I’m not dealing with! Sorry, Arthur, but I’m going to bed and this is your cabin. It’s late anyway.” And with that, Gilbert took off in a sprint out the door leaving Arthur to himself.

“Coward.” Arthur growled after him. He wasn’t as drunk as he had been. He had been careful with the alcohol consumption after he saw Francis drinking more and more, knowing that it would probably end up like this. 

“Hey! Francis! How are you feeling? Do you have to throw up again?” He got nothing more than a groan for an answer. Francis was too gone to even think straight. Arthur sighed. He then helped Francis over to the bathroom and placed him in front of the toilet. He took both their coats off as well as Francis’ vest. Arthur hesitated for a moment before he removed Francis’ shirt as well. As soon as he was finished, Francis shot forward and retched once more.

This was hell. Francis had been hungover before, sure, but this was somehow worse than that. He wasn’t exactly hungover, he had just had too much to drink and now it had decided to come back and bite him. He wasn’t even fully aware of everything that happened around him. Just suddenly he had been in the bathroom, and now he was without clothes on his upper body and currently vomiting into the toilet. He silently begged that Arthur hadn’t seen him like that and turned around to see if anyone was in there with him. No one. He was alone. It was extremely hard for him to concentrate. Who had even brought him in here, and where were the others? Francis vomited again. He felt hollow on the inside and the world would not stop spinning. The door opened behind him to his left. A quick glance over his shoulder told him that what he feared had become true. Arthur was there. Arthur had aided him in his miserable state. To his surprise and shame, Arthur walked over to him and grabbed a hold of his hair, which he then gathered and tied up with a ribbon he had brought with him. Francis couldn’t even bring himself to look at him. And on top of that, he felt himself pass in and out of consciousness all the time. He barely heard Arthur try to speak to him at times. Why did he have to see him like this? Because he was an idiot, that’s why. Thought he could fix his problems with alcohol. Suddenly, something cold was brought to his lips. A glass of water he soon found out. He drank it and felt some sense return to him. After a few more minutes, his view had become clearer and he felt more awake, although extremely tried. 

“Francis.”

“… yes?” Francis spoke with hoarseness in his voice. He wanted to die.

“Do you have to vomit again?” 

He didn’t think so. 

“If I do, you are allowed to kill me.”

“I take that as a no.”

Looking over his shoulder, Francis could see a smile on Arthur. This had to be bad for his heart. He felt his head dropping.

“Do you want to take a shower before going to bed?”

Francis didn’t know if he had the energy to it, but it was better than going to bed when he may or may not have stains of vomit on him. He might not manage alone though.

“If you join me?” Oh, no. Why the hell did he say that? He really wanted to just roll over and die now. “Uh, I mean, I think I can do it by myself…” He tried to stand up from the floor but stumbled into the sink. He didn’t even wait for a reply from Arthur. Maybe he had already given one, but Francis didn’t hear it? He began unbuttoning his trousers without thinking about whether Arthur still was in the room or not. Francis stumbled into the shower as soon as he was out of his clothes. A hot and quick shower cleared up even more. The sluggishness he had managed to shake almost completely, the only thing remaining was that fogginess and a somewhat unclear head. As he stepped out of the shower, he realized that he didn’t have any clothes to wear – he’d have to wash his clothes again now that they were stained with vomit. Arthur wasn’t in there with him anymore. He must have left. Suddenly, Francis felt an overwhelming sadness fill him. Maybe he had scared Arthur away? That Arthur didn’t even really care about him and was tired of always taking care of him. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and making their way down his cheeks in a heavy flow. Arthur had abandoned him. Francis staggered towards the door and tore it open before he stepped into the other room again.

“Arthur?!” Francis stumbled. A figure appeared to his left and he turned towards it.

“Francis! Wha-”

Arthur didn’t manage to say anything else before Francis grabbed him and crushed him in a hug. His naked skin was still wet and sticking to Arthur’s shirt.

“F-Francis, why are you crying? Is something wrong?”

Francis was sobbing as he squeezed Arthur tight. 

“Eh-Everything is wrong!” A gasp. “I don’t know w-what to do!” Francis sobbed even harder when he felt Arthur’s hands come up to embrace him. How had it come to this?

“Hey. It will be all right.” Arthur had no idea what he was talking about, and still he tried to comfort him. Francis didn’t deserve this kindness in his life. “Now, let’s get you into bed, it’s almost five in the morning.”

“I’m s-orry. Sorry.” Francis couldn’t stop sobbing, even while Arthur guided him over to his bed and made him sit down. 

“It’s all right, Francis.” Arthur chuckled. “I didn’t know you were this emotionally when drunk. You’ve said a lot of strange things tonight.”

“I’m so-sorry. Don’t hate me.”

“Hey, I could never hate you, Francis. No one hates you.” Arthur made Francis lay down on his bed, and then he folded the covers over him.

“Arthur.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t leave me.” I need you. Like a fish needs water to breathe. Francis looked up at the pirate with desperation. He didn’t want to be alone now. He never wanted to be alone. Arthur couldn’t leave him. Francis was ready to pass out from exhaustion, and the last thing he felt before falling asleep and a weight on top of the covers beside him and a voice whispering to him.

“I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot of emotions into play here, and hopefully some of them will make much more sense later.
> 
> I actually came up with Russia's design as I was writing him, and I remember thinking "yeah, this makes so much sense, he would absolutely have that". I really liked how he turned out, he was a fun character to write and I also think you get more of that steampunk-vibe that I'm going for, with his design.


	6. On my ship? It's more likely than you think

Francis awoke violently the next morning. He jolted up in bed, but quickly laid back down again when the world began spinning. He clenched his fists around the covers in an attempt to keep himself grounded. It worked badly. It was then he noticed the absence of warmth beside him. He was almost certain Arthur slept by his side him that night. A sigh escaped him. His head was pounding and it was hard to even think. He certainly hoped he had managed to keep the embarrassment to a minimum last night. His memory was still foggy and some parts of the previous night escaped him.

The door opened with a loud bang and let a beam of sunlight through, which hit Francis straight in the eyes. He groaned and turned over so his back was facing the opening and the figure standing in it. The man in the door walked in without closing the door, and Francis swore internally. 

“Thought I’d bring you some sunlight on this beautiful day.” Arthur’s words were harsh and created a cold pit in Francis stomach. Still, he answered.

“I hope you weren’t expecting gratitude? You were much kinder to me last night.”

“Well,” Arthur stopped in front of the bed. “Last night you were drunk out of your mind. And extremely emotionally. And naked.”

Francis turned over to face him with a smirk and propped himself up on his elbow, the covers pooling at his hipbones.

“As if you didn’t enjoy it.”

“Yes, what was there not to enjoy?” Arthur shot daggers at him. “The fact that you almost vomited all over me, and then I had to clean up your mess? Or when you were crying on me while you were still wet from the shower? What do you think were the most enjoyable?”

Francis frowned. Had he really done all of that? His head hurt. 

“So… you’re not here to tend to me?” Francis tried to joke with him. He smirked. “You’re not joining me in bed again? Your bed is really soft, you know. It’s so wonderful I could use it every night.” As he looked up he saw Arthur hesitate and with a light flush on his cheeks. 

“C-Certainly not! There’s water in the tap that you can get for yourself. Luckily for you there isn’t any vomit on your trousers, so you don’t have to walk around completely naked.”

“But I don’t have anything against being naked.” Francis raised an eyebrow, testing his limits. 

“Well, I do! So, get out of my bed and get dressed!” 

Thinking he was being clever, Francis sat up in the bed and removed the covers. He saw Arthur blush and turn away as he arose and went over to the bathroom door. 

“For you, any time.” Francis winked as he closed the door behind him. He could hear Arthur rummage on the other side and he snickered to himself. The pair of trousers that belonged to him still lay in a heap in front of the shower and Francis put them on. No need to anger the captain unnecessarily. He felt more at peace now, even though his head was still pounding and his stomach was uneasy. After a splash of water to the face and something to drink, he felt better. Francis flashed a smile in the mirror. He had decided: he was going to charm Arthur the best he could and deal with the consequences later. Arthur was outstanding and deserved only the best – which he was determined to give him. His thoughts wandered to the piece of paper still in his pocket. He shook his head and headed out of the bathroom. The first thing that met him was a shirt thrown in his face. Confused, he grabbed it. Arthur was standing in front of him, clearly haven thrown the shirt, which with a closer look appeared to belong to the pirate. 

“You are too generous, Arthur. You know I could do fine without a shirt.”

“Just take it, shut up, and get out of here.” Arthur pointed sternly at the door.

“As you wish.” Francis sighed dramatically. “I’ll be with Gilbert then, if you decide miss me.”

“Hardly.” Arthur folded his arms as he raised an eyebrow. Francis snickered as he left the room and closed the door behind him, leaving himself standing out on the deck with the shirt still in his hands. He noticed a few stares from the crew while he dressed up. He certainly hoped Arthur had told them about his sexual orientation, or this might create some unwanted rumours. That thought alerted him. He didn’t even know if Arthur liked men! There was only one person on this ship he could ask that question. Francis hurriedly made his way down the stairs and towards the machinery. 

Fortunately, Gilbert was up and about where he used to be when Francis came sprinting down the stairs. His stomach had begun revolting again so paused a second before he approached the mechanic, sitting on the couch. 

“Hey, Gilbert. I need to ask you something.”

Gilbert looked up at him with a mischievous smirk.

“Oh, hello, Francis. Had a good night?”

“Urgh, stop it. It was horrible. Apparently, I had some sort of emotional break-down and began crying? Just, don’t ever mention last night ever again.” Francis gestured resigned with his hands before he flopped down on the couch beside his friend.

“Ya, Arthur told me.” Gilbert chuckled to himself. “He was not in a good mood this morning. Almost frustrated you could say.”

“Which brings me to my question.” Francis closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Gilbert. Is Arthur actually gay?”

“Really?”

“Yes! I need to know for certain, and if anyone would know, it’s you.”

“Hmm… I don’t know, Francis. That’s kind of private information, you know?” Gilbert spoke jokingly. “But… since it’s you, and I think you actually could stand a chance…”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, he’s gay. Come on, Francis, really? You couldn’t figure that out for yourself?”

“It doesn’t hurt to confirm my suspicions.” 

“Yeah, yeah, happy now?” Gilbert rose an eyebrow at him. 

“Overjoyed.” Francis beamed.

“So, you’re actually going for it?”

“Well, I have been flirting with him all morning and I’m not about to give up now.” Francis stood up from the couch. “Actually, I think I’m going to pay Peter a visit. I didn’t even see him at all yesterday.”

“You do that.” Gilbert just shook his head and went back to tinkering with whatever project he was working on now. 

Francis sighed as he began the ascent of those stairs again. His heart was already beating faster than normal due to his alcohol consumption last night, and it was not a pleasant climb. Outside the sleeping quarters he was supposed to use, he had to take a break. That was when he heard hushed voiced coming from inside. Without really meaning to, he overheard a conversation between several of the crewmembers. 

“… tonight then?”

“Yes, we’ll corner him in his cabin when the sun sets. The rest of you take out the mechanic.”

“What about our ‘prisoner’? You saw he beat the captain the other day, he’s not that weak and we shouldn’t be underestimating him.”

“We’ll deal with him when we can. Our main objective is to get the captain, and then the ship is ours.”

Francis drew in a sharp breath. The crew was planning a mutiny! One of those voices definitely belonged to the first mate, Smith. Shit, he had to warn Arthur. Carefully, he took a step away from the door, but when he looked up something hard hit him in the head suddenly everything went black. 

~

His head hurt. That was the first thought that came to his mind. The next thing he registered was that he was lying on the wooden floor in an awkward position which had made his arms sore. As he sat up and reached to his head, he became aware of other things. For one, there were bars of metal in front of him. Second, frantic shuffling and yells were happening behind him. So, Francis turned around. And then he almost whished he hadn’t. 

Francis had been placed in a cell with three other people. Two of them were kneeling by the third. Those were the ones who were yelling and moving about. The third figure lay still. Francis stood up and closed in on them, almost in a trance-like state. His stomach was dropping by the second. Arthur was the one lying on the floor. He was as pale as he’d ever seen him, all colour was lost from his face, and he had his eyes closed. Peter was holding the pirate captain’s left arm as tight as he could, clutching it while he wept. Gilbert was tearing at his own hair in desperation, clearly frantic as tears formed in the corners of his eyes. Francis stepped in something wet. As he looked down he discovered he was standing in a dark red and sticky puddle. He followed it with his eyes until he reached Arthur’s leg. Or, where his leg should have been. Arthur was missing his entire right leg from the middle of his thigh and down. 

“Hey… what’s going on…?” This isn’t happening, Francis thought. “Is-is he…”

None of them answered him. Then, there was like a switch turned on in his head. This wasn’t the time to get answers, but to act. Francis grabbed hold of Gilbert and shook him violently. 

“Gilbert! Get it together!”

Red eyes cleared and became focused on Francis.

“Francis…”

“Gilbert! We have to stop the bleeding!” Francis tore of his shirt, which Arthur had borrowed him only a few hours earlier, and wrapped it around the bloody stump that was all that was left of Arthur’s right leg. It was then, Gilbert snapped out of it as well. Following suit, he shed his own shirt and added it to Francis’. Francis was holding the bundle of clothes tight while Gilbert moved to make contact with the unconscious man. At least, Francis hoped he was only unconscious. He feared the alternative. 

“Arthur! Hey! Arthur, wake up!” There was no use. Arthur wouldn’t listen to them. Gilbert put two fingers to his pulse to check. “He’s still alive! His heart is beating like crazy! And his breath is shallow. This is not good.”

What more could they do? Francis knew they had to stop the bleeding – that was the first priority – but what more could they do in this situation? He tightened his hold on the stump and held it higher than Arthur’s own body so the blood would flow down to his organs. Francis could feel himself breaking out in sweat while an icy feeling piled in his guts. He absolutely could not let Arthur die. 

It felt like hours were passing by while the two men were doing everything they could possibly think of to save their captain. Peter had gone quiet but still refused to let go of Arthur’s arm. His face was red from crying and he constantly dried away snot dripping from his nose. With a lump in his throat, Francis finally broke the stifling silence.

“… what happened? How could this happen?”

“I-I don’t know.” Gilbert rubbed his face. “I wasn’t there. Some of the men cornered me down in the engine room, and I didn’t stand a chance. Soon after I was brought here, they came with Arthur and Peter too.” 

“Peter? Please, look at me.” Francis almost had tears filling his eyes. “Peter, did you see what happened?” The boy didn’t look up but nodded with his eyes squeezed shut. Francis felt bad for him. This wasn’t something meant for the eyes of a child, and no matter how capable Peter was, he wasn’t ready for this. Maybe Arthur had been right after all. Arthur. Francis looked down at the still unconscious man, paler than ever. “Peter, will you tell us what happened? Please?”

After a few sniffles, Peter finally began to speak. 

“Two men came to get me in the galley. I had a bad feeling and didn’t want to go with them, and so they hit me.” Peter looked up and then Francis noticed the bruise on his left cheek. “They took me up on the deck. The rest of the crew was there a-and Arthur. A-And he was fighting with Mister Smith with the others around them. But then they put a sword to my throat and Arthur had to surrender t-to save me.” Peter’s eyes were filling up with tears, which trailed down his cheeks. “And then they-they got him.”

Francis felt dread fill him and looked over at Gilbert. He didn’t look any better himself. After all, these were the men they had shared a ship with for several years who had just suddenly turned on them. There had been a mutiny. It was clear Arthur hadn’t had many friends among the crewmembers other than those currently in a cell with him. Francis sighed.

“Listen, Peter. This isn’t you fault, all right? You couldn’t have done anything different. And don’t worry about Arthur, he’ll be fine. He’ll live.” Hopefully. Francis tried to muster up an encouraging smile. Suddenly, the door to the room banged open and a man stepped in. He placed himself in front of the bars and looked down at the prisoners. Gilbert growled at him and shot up from the floor. 

“What the fuck do you want, Smith?! Haven’t you done enough already?” He spit out. The first mated didn’t even pull a face and remained neutral. 

“I’m only here to see how you’re all doing.” He nodded towards Arthur. “Is he still alive?” 

Francis glared up at Smith through his strands of hair. Gilbert stepped out in front of the previous first mate and blocked the view to Arthur.

“What even is your problem? What have we ever done to you?”

“Oh, enough.” Smith looked down at him with contempt. “All of you have acted as if you are the only people on this ship far too long. You don’t care what happens to any of the crew as long as you’re all right. And don’t think I don’t know that Alfred was the one you would rather have as first mate, because I do. The captain doesn’t even bother to eat meals with us, thinking he’s so much better than us. And then he comes along.” Smith jabbed a finger at Francis. “And you go around giving him special treatment like he is an important guest, not the prisoner he was supposed to be. And now he’s all round the ship, acting like he owns the place. He doesn’t even have to work. A freeloader is what he is, eating our food and acting all cosy around the captain.”

“All right, so we haven’t been the best of friends.” Gilbert growled. “But that is no excuse to amputate Arthur’s leg while he can’t defend himself! He might die here!” 

“I’ll admit that was not in our original plan, but an unfortunate outcome. When the men are out for blood it is not my place to hold them back.”

“That’s some bad leadership right there, Smith.”

“At least I am wanted as a captain, Gilbert.”

“Go fuck yourself, John. When we get out of here I going to blow a hole in your chest.”

“I look forward to it.” Smith turned around to the door and waved over his shoulder as he left the room. Gilbert punched the bars in anger as the door closed behind him. 

“Never liked that man.” He mumbled to himself.

“… this is all my fault.” Francis stared empty out in the air ahead, while still clamping down on Arthur’s leg. “If I hadn’t come aboard this ship in the first place then… none of this would have happened.”

“Shut your fucking mouth, Francis.” Gilbert sighed as he slumped down on the floor by Arthur’s head. “It’s not your fault. We had this coming from a long time ago. Yeah, maybe you were some sort of triggering factor, but that doesn’t make this your fault alone. It would have happened one way or another eventually. What’s important now is to make sure Arthur doesn’t die on us.” 

Francis gave a soft nod. Gilbert was right: they had to focus on the present, there was no point in dwelling on what had already happened. But still, he could help but feel like his presence had caused the mutiny. That it was his fault Arthur was now bleeding to death on the floor of a cell.

The trio sat in silence for the better part of an hour at least. Francis holding onto the leg, which he thought had stopped bleeding by then, Peter grabbing Arthur’s arm, and Gilbert occasionally checking his breath and pulse. Then, by the force of some miracle, Arthur stirred. They all straightened up and carefully watched his movements, a flicker of hope sparking in them.

“Hey! Arthur! You awake?” Gilbert lay a hand to his cheek as his eyes fluttered open. A groan escaped him and his face scrunched up.

“Stop fucking yelling, Gilbert.” Arthur’s voice was weak and hoarse. Gilbert was about to say something else when Peter flung himself around Arthur’s neck and began wailing. The former captain huffed by the pressure on his chest. “Hey, Peter. Are you unharmed, lad?” Fierce nodding from the boy assured him and he let out a sigh.

Francis had been so caught up in the moment that he didn’t even notice the silent tears streaming down his own cheeks. The relief washed over him by that sight of Arthur awake and alive. He smiled.

“Hey, Peter, back off! Give the man some space!” Gilbert raised his voice in annoyance at the boy, but you could hear the glee hidden behind his words. 

“Hi, Gilbert.” Arthur looked tired as he stared at his friend and Peter moved away with a bright smiled plastered on his face. “Wha-what happened? My head feels so light.”

Gilbert’s eyes darkened as he spoke. 

“There was a mutiny. Smith now has control over the ship and the crew is on his side. Currently we are locked down here in the cell.” Arthur looked around and spotted Francis for the first time since waking up. He also caught a sight of his own foot, or rather; he didn’t. His voice shook as he spoke. 

“H-Hey. Where is my… leg?”

Francis looked down on him in agony as he answered with a soft voice.

“I’m sorry, Arthur. They took it. You almost died…” Francis could see Arthur had panic in his eyes, which was understandable. “Hey, take it easy. It will be all right, just please calm down.” Arthur covered half his face with his right arm while he bit his lip. After some time, he spoke.

“Gilbert. You better get off your ass right now and make me a new goddamned leg in the next hour, because I’m going to kill that John Smith.”

“Whoa, slow down.” Gilbert put a hand on his shoulder. “I can’t do that. I want to, really. But I don’t have my gear here, and if I did, it would definitely take more than just an hour. A-And I haven’t tested out my biomechanics on humans yet, I don’t even know if it will work!”

Arthur removed his arm and glared up at the mechanic. Fierce, green eyes drilling into the other man.

“Gilbert, I don’t care what you have to do. I need a new leg. Now.”

Gilbert sighed and sat back as he rubbed his face. 

“I’ll see what I can do.” He shook his head in defeat. “I think I have some spare parts stashed away here somewhere that I didn’t really need anymore. There might be something there I could use.”

Arthur gave a nod and Gilbert got up from the floor. He walked over to the very back of the cell where there was a pile covered by a tarpaulin. As he moved the cover and began rummaging through the scraps, Francis looked down on the former captain. Arthur was staring up into the ceiling and didn’t even stir. Francis spoke up with caution.

“You know… when I pictured myself between your leg, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” He bit his lip and smiled coyly. Arthur didn’t look at him, but Francis could hear the smile in his voice when he answered.

“Watch it, Bonnefoy. Just wait till I get my new leg and I will kick you.”

“I’m looking forward to it.” Francis beamed down at him. “Maybe you will even be capable enough to beat me this time.” Arthur was silent for a few second.

“Francis. Are you… unharmed?”

“I’m quite all right, don’t worry about me. I managed to overhear them talking in the sleeping quarters and before I knew it, someone had come up behind me and knocked me out. Next thing I remember is this cell here.” 

Arthur gave a nod, content with the answer. At that point, Gilbert returned with a pile of metal in his arms which he flung down on the floor a little bit away from the wall below the only porthole in the cell.

“We need to move him. I need more light to work on this.” Francis nodded and moved to grabbed Arthur under his arms and dragged him over to the porthole. “Francis, you support him from behind and… hold him still.” Francis did as Gilbert said. He propped himself up against the wall and took Arthur slumped in between his own legs. Unsure quite what to do with his arms, he settled with wrapping them around Arthur’s stomach. Gilbert seemed satisfied and turned to Arthur.

“I don’t have anything in the form of anaesthesia, so this will hurt. A lot. I have to do it before the wound heals, but these scraps have not been disinfected and are dirty. Also, we don’t have any water so I can’t even wash them. The best I can do for you is wipe them on my pants. The first thing I will do is build a base on your foot, where I attach the nerves to the metal. The base is to keep your wound from healing up. After I have done that, I will build a makeshift leg for you. That base will get infected very soon, most likely within the day. So that means we have to reclaim this ship fast.” Gilbert stared intently at him. Arthur was paler than ever, but still gritted his teeth and nodded in understanding. 

“Just get it over with, Gilbert.”

“Peter! Go to the other corner and try to get some sleep. This will take some time.”

Peter looked reluctant, but still did as Gilbert ordered. He understood that this was serious. Francis felt a chill move over his bare skin. A quick look up at the porthole above told him that the night was moving in fast. They had to be quick before all the light they had escaped them. 

“Ready?” Gilbert fished out a tool from an inner pocket in his coat. “Good thing they didn’t get my multitool, or we’d be screwed.”

“Hey, wait.” Francis raised an eyebrow. “Can’t you just use that on the bars?”

“I wish, but it won’t work. I’m the one who installed those bars, made out of one of the strongest iron-alloys. Nothing we have here can help us through those.” Gilbert began to unwrap the bloodied shirts around Arthur’s leg. Francis could feel Arthur tense in his hands. He was still cold and clammy beneath his shirt. His breath quickened considerably as Gilbert lead his multitool to the exposed flesh. Arthur muffled a cry when the pain kicked in. Francis tightened his grip around him.

“Do you want me to knock you out perhaps? You won’t feel a thing, I promise.” Francis murmured into Arthur’s ear in an attempt to distract him. 

“As if I’m not – nnng – injured enough already?” Arthur kept his voice low as well. 

“What? You’re strong, you’ll live through it.” Francis closed his eyes and smirked into Arthur’s neck. He smelt of sweat and his hair was sticking to his skin. Francis took a deep breath to calm himself before he spoke once more. “Or perhaps you want me to distract you in some other way?”

“The-The fuck, Francis? Are you trying to seduce me?”

“You know, I don’t think Gilbert will even notice.” Francis smiled playfully and had to restrain himself so he wouldn’t laugh. “Peter is sleeping, and I’m known to be quite stealthy with my hands.”

“Francis, I will punch you. Hard.”

“Don’t overstrain yourself, cher.”

“Cher? What-?” 

“Will you two settle down?” Gilbert sounded annoyed, too occupied to even look up at the pair. “I’m working here.”

Arthur jolted again as Gilbert continued probing into his wound. Francis hugged him closer and planted a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. They just had to get through the night.


	7. There's a storm coming

It felt like the night lasted an eternity. Peter lay still in his corner, fast asleep, or so the other three assumed. Gilbert had worked on Arthur’s leg until far past midnight, well after the light had faded, before he was happy with the result. Outside, the rain had begun pouring down around eleven, about the same time Arthur had passed out from the pain. Francis had panicked for a moment because he thought Arthur had died, but calmed down not after long. They had let him stay unconscious through most of the operation after that. And when Gilbert finished, they all fell asleep right there on the floor where they sat. 

When Francis awoke again, the room was still dark. With a glance at the porthole he could tell the rain was still pouring down while the sky had darkened considerably. It almost looked like there would be a storm. Arthur lay still in his lap, and fortunately, he was breathing. He still looked pale and sickly, but both his pulse and breathing appeared somewhat normal now. At least that was something. Francis felt goosebumps rise on his bare skin. It had been quite chilly after he gave up his shirt to Arthur’s leg, and his torso was splattered with dried blood. He couldn’t wait to go take a shower after all of this was over. But right now, there were more important matters at hand. 

Francis rose from his spot against the wall, and gently let Arthur down on the floor before he went over to Gilbert and rustled him. It didn’t take long before the mechanic was well awake. 

“Gilbert, get up.” Francis spoke in a hushed voice as to not wake the other two. 

“Ah, Francis.” Gilbert groaned. The floor was hardly the most comfortable place to sleep on. “What’s going on?”

“You need to finish Arthur’s leg. And then we need to find a way out of here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Gilbert let out a groan again before he rubbed his face. He got up from his spot on the floor and went to the pile of scrap metal again. Francis looked down on Arthur’s missing right leg. Gilbert had finished the base, and where there had been a gaping wound with muscle, bone and flesh, there was now only metal.

“What are you looking at?” A grumble came from Arthur, still halfway in a daze. 

“You look like a real pirate now, you know?” Francis smiled with sadness. “How are you feeling, mon amie?”

“I’m fine, Francis. Perfectly fine.” Arthur tried to prop himself up on an elbow but fell to the floor. Francis scurried to his side, but Arthur just swatted at him. 

“You are far from fine.” Francis glared down at him. 

“What the fuck do you want me to say? I just lost my bloody leg for fucks sake.” 

“Well, you could try to tell me what you feel for once.” Francis huffed. “You look absolutely terrible right now.” He paused a second. “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“Quit worrying about me, Bonnefoy. It doesn’t suit you. I’ll be fine as soon as Smith is lying dead before my feet. Foot.” Arthur gave him a small smile, but it was full of confidence. 

“All right! I’m done!” Gilbert came walking towards them with something long in his hands. “What do you think? Awesome, right?” He beamed at them. Francis studied the piece in his hands. It consisted of several metal pieces welded together, a bowl with straps on the top, and a flat piece at the bottom. 

“Weren’t this supposed to be biomechanical?” Francis questioned with scepticism. 

“As I said; I don’t have the materials here, so this prosthetic will have to work until we recapture the ship.”

“I’ll take what I can get right now.” Arthur motioned Gilbert to get the prosthetic on him. After a bit fumbling with the straps, Arthur finally had two legs again. However, one of them didn’t quite bend at the knee and was a lot heavier. Francis helped Arthur to his feet, and as they all looked on in anticipation the ship suddenly shook violently. Gilbert managed to keep himself standing and Francis supported a staggering Arthur. Apparently, that woke Peter up, and they heard a voice from the corner.

“What was that?!” The boy stumbled towards the trio.

“It’s a storm.” Gilbert spoke sternly and locked eyes with Arthur. “We’ve sailed into a storm. A huge one.”

Arthur whipped his head around and stared out the small porthole. A lightning suddenly flashed and the thunder followed shortly after.

“This is our chance.”

“What? Arthur, are you serious?” Gilbert looked at him in disbelief. “Look how close we are. The ship will never make it through this thunderstorm, those incompetent idiots should have turned around hours ago.”

“Gilbert.” Arthur spoke with determination. “I can take this ship through the storm. If we are lucky, the crew will flee the ship in not too long if they know what’s best for them. It’s already too late to turn around now. This is our moment to take back the ship. Probably the only one we’ll ever get. Not to mention that if they leave the ship they are probably not going to take us with them and we’ll end up dying down here anyway.” 

Gilbert shook his head as he grinned.

“All right, I’m not entirely convinced, but if someone could do it, it would be you I guess. It’s not a half-bad plan. But first; let’s see if we can get out of this cell.”

It was easier said than done, they all noticed very soon. There was nothing in there that could help them. Apparently, the lock couldn’t be picked without the key and the solid bars couldn’t be broken. All hope seemed lost as they watched the dark clouds move closer by the minute, occasionally shaking the ship, and faint shouts from the upper deck reached their ears. The atmosphere inside began to feel heavy as they closed in on the centre of the storm. You could tell the crew had tried to avoid it, their course altering slightly to the left, but it was already too late. 

“We could try to break through the floorboards?” Francis was desperate for solutions at the moment and was in all honesty turning a bit frantic. 

“Won’t work. It will take too long and the frame is integrated under the boards. We would just be making it harder for ourselves.”

“Oh come on! Just who did you intend to capture down here?! The world most dangerous criminal?”

“Actually, I was thinking of Ivan but-” 

“We really don’t have time for this.” Arthur rolled his eyes and humped over to the lock. “Gilbert, are you sure nothing will work on this?”

“Of course! I designed it.”

Arthur sighed and scratched his head in thought. So far, it didn’t look too good for them. Then, the door to the room slowly began to creak open. They all stood in tense silence and watched as the tiny crack widened. With an about twenty centimetres opening, the movement stopped. There was no one at the door. Or so they thought, when suddenly a small whizzing sound came from the floor in the crack. A lump of metal came ascending up from the floor, carrying something from it claws, and chirped at the gang. 

“Gilbird!” 

“The fuck?” 

“Mon dieu.” 

Gilbert’s metallic bird had somehow found its way to its creator and not only that, it had also brought a key with it. Currently it was chirping happily while it hovered in the air right outside the bars of the jail, excited to see them all again. Gilbert stretched his arms out and grabbed the bird into a hug. While the mechanic had a touching reunion with his creation, Arthur retrieved the key and tested it out in the lock that had kept them from freedom. It fit. 

“I must say I never thought this would ever become a reality. Saved by a metallic bird, who can’t even fly without a jetpack. How the fuck did it even know how to find us? Not to mention the key?”

“I guess some things will always remain a mystery.” Francis shook his head. Arthur hummed. 

“Gilbert, please stop hugging the bird, we need to get out of here.” The rain was pounding heavily on the side of the ship and it had become harder to stand straight due to the turbulence. “First, we need some weapons. Gilbert, now is the time to pull out all the stuff you’ve been working on. Go down to the engine room and fetch it. Francis an I will try to make our way up to the deck and then locate Smith if he’s not already fled the ship.”

“What do I get to do?” Peter chirped up from beside them. Eager to help as always.

“You go down to the engine room with Gilbert and hide there until one of us comes to get you.”

“What? But, Arthur, I want to help!”

“Then stay safe.” Arthur looked sternly at him. Peter looked like he wanted to protest, but stayed silent, tears forming in his eyes. “All right, let’s go!” Arthur clapped his hands together, making the others move. Gilbert sprinted out the door with Gilbird safely nestled on his shoulder, and Peter right behind him. Francis stood by, waiting for Arthur with his slow pace. It was evident that he was still getting used to his new leg, and it wasn’t happening especially fast. He was still very weak from all the blood he had lost the evening before. It didn’t look good for him. Francis could tell that he was already exhausted from just standing up and commanding the others around. And now he was going to face down his former first mate? Francis dreaded the outcome. 

“Do you want me to carry you up? There’s a great many stairs ahead.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“I really wasn’t joking.” Francis stared at him. 

“I know.” Arthur sighed. “I can do this by myself, Francis.”

“Oh, for fucks sakes! I’m not worried about you climbing a few stairs, idiot! I’m worried that you’ll use all your strength just to get up on the deck and collapse the moment you open the door. You should stay in bed for at least a week in your condition.”

Arthur gritted his teeth as Francis rambled.

“Francis. I will do this. And I need you to have my back on this. If we run into some of the crew on our way up, you can’t both carry me and fight. I’ll worry about getting up those stairs, and you can worry about everything else.”

“You are so infuriating.” Francis sneered, but still complied. At least Arthur trusted him enough to fight to protect them both. He walked out the door and into the big space with all the cannons chained to the wall. Apparently, they were on the floor just above the engine room and only had one set of stairs to climb before the last hallway. Francis walked carefully in front of Arthur and on high alert. They could already hear a pair of running footsteps on the floor above them. It was clear that the pirates had still not left the ship as Arthur had predicted they would. At least not all of them. Francis and Arthur began on the stairs while they tried to keep quiet. Soon, the footsteps above disappeared further away towards the main deck. Perhaps the evacuation was already being carried out. They both reached next floor without running into any trouble. Halfway through the hallway, Gilbert came running up behind them. He threw a small gun at Francis and then gave Arthur something that looked like a small cannon, with straps to fasten it onto his forearm. For himself he had brought a heavily modified rifle. 

“These were the only weapons I found that were operational. So, go apeshit I guess?”

Arthur threaded the large metal barrel onto his left arm and strapped it tight. In addiction he received a net with cannonballs, which he fastened to his belt. Francis sighed internally; there was no way Arthur would be able to handle that thing by himself. The man could barely carry himself up some stairs. Francis would have to stay close by him. There was no way he was leaving him alone at this point. 

“Ready?” Arthur looked at his companions. Gilbert snickered while Francis just shook his head resigned. There was no turning back now. They stood behind the door leading to the main deck, ready to do anything. Behind it they could hear the wind raging and the rain pounding down on the ship. As they flung open the door and jumped out, a lighting flashed over the sky just a few hundred metres away. 

Arthur had been correct: the crew was evacuating. They were already in the process of filling up the smaller lifeboats on the sides of the ship. Half of them were already missing. The crew briefly looked up at their former prisoners, but quickly continued to make their escape. 

“Ignore them!” Arthur shouted through the howling of the storm. They had only been outside a few seconds and were already soaked through to the skin. Nothing of the landscape below the ship was visible: the pitch-black clouds were everywhere, engulfing the ship. “Nothing else matters if we can’t get the ship under control! We have to get to the helm!” 

Francis grabbed Arthur under his arm, determined to get him up those last stairs to the quarter deck on the same side of the ship they had come out of, opposite side of the forecastle and the captain’s cabin. Arthur didn’t protest as he was practically dragged along. Gilbert was first up on the quarter deck. A man from the crew stood at the helm, and though it was not the first mate, he had to be cleared away before they could safely acquire control of the ship. The man reluctant to move before Gilbert kicked him away but then he ran down to the lifeboats, eager to escape with the rest. Only two of the originally six lifeboats still remained now. As Gilbert grabbed the helm before the ship could deter considerably, they heard a loud shout from the other end of the ship.

“Kirkland!”

The trio snapped their heads up, the voice ringing out clear in between the loud storm. The wooden deck had become slippery and the movements were making it hard to stand. As they mused, they could see a figure standing up on the forecastle across from them. Arthur yelled back at the man.

“I’ll get you, Smith!” Francis stood behind him, not really touching, but still vary should the man slip. 

Smith shouted something else, but neither of them could really hear what he said. Then, they saw him take out a large gun and place it on top his shoulder. He couldn’t be more than fifty metres away from them. 

“Is he really-” Francis wasn’t able to say anything else before a shot rang out through the howling wind. He could see the large bullet move towards himself in slow motion, without any time to physically move him own body. He thought the bullet would blow right through his head for a moment before there suddenly was an arm in front of him. Everything caught up and Francis could see Arthur stand in front of him with his left arm raised in a block. The bullet had bounced off the cannon strapped to his arm. 

“Francis! Help me load this thing!” Arthur seemed unfaced by the attack, quickly commanding the situation. “Gilbert! Keep the ship straight!” 

Francis hurried to grab one of the cannon balls from Arthur’s belt and then went to load the weapon. Fortunately for them, Smith still had to reload his own as well. Gilbert was rendered useless with his rifle as he had to steer the vessel. The cannon strapped to Arthur’s arm was too heavy for just one person to take hold and aim, especially considering his weakened state, so Francis helped to correct the direction of the tunnel over to Smith. It was hard to even see him clearly in this weather. Arthur fired. The ball flew by on his right side. They had missed. Quickly, they became aware that Smith was taking aim as well. Yet again, Francis was able to duck this time while Arthur deflected the shot. 

“Arthur!” Francis shouted through the wind, standing down on one knee behind him. “This is hopeless! We’ll never get a clear shot at him! And we are defenceless while we fire!”

Arthur turned his head sideways, still keeping an eye on the first mate while he answered Francis. 

“We will get him! We can’t stand and do nothing while he keeps firing at us. I will take him down! But I can’t do it alone!” Arthur turned fully to face him and bent down to lay his right hand on his shoulder. Francis was still without a shirt, and he was thankful the temperature wasn’t all that bad. He looked Arthur in the eyes. Arthur still had that bruise around his left eye and the cut above it. Dark circles lay beneath his eyes and the pale face had grown even skinner during the past day. This man was on the brink of death itself. Yet, in his green eyes burned a fire. Francis felt a warm, tingling sensation fill his gut as he looked at the man above him. He would be willing to die if Arthur commanded him to. Yet, he felt confident in him, as if he just did as Arthur said, he wouldn’t die. The moment was broken by a bullet whizzing by them, far too close. Quickly, Francis got to his feet and helped Arthur reload the cannon. Once more, they took aim, Francis doing most of the work. Once again, the ball blew past the other man. Francis swore. 

“One more time!” He clenched his teeth. They would be unable to steer the ship through the storm while fighting Smith. A quick look towards the vessels sides told him that rest of the crew had already left. There were no more lifeboats left. They were stuck here. With Smith. There was no other way to escape now. 

As they reloaded again, they could see Smith doing the same over at the forecastle. He was taking aim at the same time Francis was. Francis looked down the barrel of the cannon and barely spotted Smith doing the very same thing himself. A dread filled his stomach as he shouted.

“Fire!”

The cannon went off. As did Smith’s gun. Only, this time Arthur couldn’t get his arm up to block. Francis watched again in slow motion as the bullet closed in on him. Right before it hit, his focus shifted to the other side of the ship. There, he saw Smith getting a fairly sized hole blown through his own head, and he felt content as he closed his eyes. The next thing he knew, there was a sharp pain on the left side of his head, and then nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter. Really unsure how the weapons here turned out since I didn't really have a clear image of them in my head when starting out. Hopefully, it didn't come across as too messy.


	8. The note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is revealed and Francis faces the consecvenses.

Bright, blinding light cut into his eyes as he blinked them open. His head was pounding heavily and the urge to vomit presented itself. He did not even dare to lift his head as the pain was too powerful. Still, he noticed that he was lying down in a bed with covers over him, and that the left side of his face felt a bit… odd. Francis carefully raised a hand to feel for himself. The entire cheekbone and the bone above his eye socket had been replaced by metal. Somehow, his eye was still intact though. As he blinked a few more times, he realized that he was lying in Arthur’s bed, in the captain’s cabin. Arthur. Right; Smith had gotten a cannon ball through his head, and then he had blacked out. And judging by the bright light coming from the window, they had been successful in navigating through that horrible storm. Francis felt a smile stretch across his face: finally, they had done it. They were free and alive, and now they could do whatever they wanted. They survived. None of them had died. Just as Francis was about to shuffle up in the bed, the door opened. Francis perked up and grinned when Gilbert walked into the room. 

“Bonjour, mon amie. How are you doing?” Francis continued to smile as Gilbert sat down on the chair by the bed. However, when he got a look at his face, he felt dread slowly fill his stomach. Something was wrong. There was a lot of anger behind those red eyes, yet also something akin to sadness or… disappointment? Francis felt his heart speed up as Gilbert spoke. 

“How could you?”

“Wha- Gilbert? What are you-”

“You can quit the act, Francis. We know.”

In a state of panic, almost by reflex Francis let his hand dart down to the pocket of his pants. Only to notice his pants were missing. They knew. They knew his secret. He suddenly felt empty. He wanted to cry. This wasn’t how he had intended things to go. Francis spoke in a low murmur.

“You found the paper. My contract. Arthur. Does he-”

“You must be truly evil to do this to him. He doesn’t deserve that. And to think I really thought you liked him.”

“I do! I really do like-”

“Do you actually think I am going to believe anything you say right now?” Gilbert looked down at him in distain. “Arthur doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. I don’t even understand why he even let you live.”

Gilbert rose from his seat and walked towards the door.

“As soon as you can walk we’ll let you off the ship. We don’t want to see your face ever again.” He turned in the doorframe. “Just be thankful that you’re still alive, assassin.” 

Francis felt his life crumble as the door smacked shut. What had he done? This whole thing had been a mistake. He never should have taken that contract. A contract on the behalf of the Avalon Company for the murder of the infamous pirate captain Arthur Kirkland. Francis had always been a highly skilled assassin, one who always finished a job. But this time it was different. Arthur was different. Francis didn’t want to kill him. He had fallen in love with him. Francis dragged his fingers through his hair as tears streamed down his cheeks. He had planned to abandon his mission and leave to be with Arthur, but now that was impossible. Arthur hated him now. And he had all the right to do so. All of them had. He had deceived them for about a week, become friends with them. He had taken care of Peter, supported and encouraged him. He had been joking along with Gilbert and trusted him concerning his infatuation with Arthur. Arthur. He would have done anything for the pirate captain, and instead he ended up hurting him the most. Those three people had grown to be some of his closest friends, an important part of his life. And now they were throwing him away because he had been lying to them. Francis felt as if his life was over. He wouldn’t be able to see Arthur ever again. 

Francis spent the next few hours lying in bed and staring up at the roof. He hugged the covers and took in the last smell of roses and Arthur while he could. He didn’t know how many days he had been unconscious, but it was probably more than one. His head didn’t hurt so much anymore either. At some point Gilbert walked in with his clothes and told him to get dressed before he walked back out again. On top of the pile of clothes was the crumbled piece of paper he had tried to hide so well. The paper that had his signature on the bottom right. The paper that had sealed his fate. Francis began crying again. 

After he had dressed, Francis stepped out the door and onto the main deck. The tension in the air was thick. The ship was hovering just above the top of the many trees below. They were in the middle of a big forest, pine trees stretching out over valleys and up a river to his left, Francis could spot the contours of a city, Mirstone, his home. His final stop. The sun was about to set and emitted a warm, orange glow. In that light, Francis could see three people standing in front of him, a good distance away. Peter, furthest away, almost didn’t want to look at him, with a red face and tears streaming down his cheeks. Francis could see he was angry with him. Then, there was Gilbert, standing in the middle, right behind Arthur, with a hard glare directed at him. There was absolutely no forgiveness to be found there. But worst of all to face was Arthur. There was no emotion evident in his face as he stared empty ahead at Francis. And Francis felt something break inside him while tears formed in his eyes. Arthur stood there in his red coat and black hat, as proud as ever, although there was a certain sadness to him. His bruised eye was as good as healed and colour had returned to his face. In his hand he was holding a familiar item: Francis winged jetpack. Francis tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but to no avail. 

“Arthur, please. At least let me explain myself.”

“There is nothing to explain.”

“Yes, there is. S’il te plait. I never intended to go through with it. Maybe at first, I did, but not after a while. I would never do you any harm.”

“It’s too late for this now, Francis. It’s over.”

“No, it’s not! Do you know how many times I could have killed you?” Francis took a step forward as tears ran down his cheeks. “I could never go through with it, Arthur. I would die for you!”

He almost had hope when Arthur took the last few steps to stand right in front of him. But, it was quickly crushed as Arthur shoved the jetpack into his arms. 

“I brought you to Mirstone, our deal is over and you can keep your money. Now, get the hell off my ship.” Arthur’s lovely, green eyes were hard as stone and emotionless as he spoke. “Before I throw you off myself.” Then, he turned around and left through the door that led to the rest of the ship. Peter followed him while Gilbert just folded his arms and stood there, waiting for Francis to take his leave. With no other choice, Francis reluctantly strapped on the wings and stepped over to the railing. With one last lingering gaze at the ship, he stepped off the edge. 

Gilbert had done a wonderful job, Francis thought, as he flew through the warm air. The city grew in front of him as the pirate ship disappeared behind him. The sun was almost gone behind the horizon, only a few light beams still illuminating the sky. Francis felt as if his head was full of fog. He was unable to think straight and the scenery did nothing to capture his attention. He didn’t even realize where he was before he landed at the edge of the city and began wandering through the streets. He didn’t have a set goal or destination in mind, he just needed to walk. To get away. Away from everything. His life was over. The love of his life was a pirate captain who never wanted to see him again. There was only one thing he could do right now. And so, he found himself standing outside his usual drinking place; an extremely questionable-looking bar in one of the side-alleys in the bad neighbourhood of the city. Francis opened the door and stepped inside.

The bar was mostly empty, just the bartender, chatting with a young man sitting by the bar, and a few strangers having a good time in a corner. Francis walked up to the bar and sat down as in a daze. The backpack he dropped off on the floor beside him. Nothing seemed quite real right now. 

“Hey there, Francis. It’s been a while hasn’t it? You been working another job?” Sadiq, the bartender snickered. The young man to Francis left, Lovino, a common thief, caught a glimpse of his face behind the long locks which had lost all shine, and exclaimed.

“Oh, my god! Francis, what happened to you face?”

“Oh, shit!” Sadiq had spotted it as well. “What kind of job did you take on to have ended up like that?” 

Francis just ignored them.

“Can I get some vodka, please?” 

Sadiq hesitantly poured some of the clear liquid into a glass and placed it in front of him. Francis didn’t waste any time by throwing his head back and swallowing everything in one gulp. 

“Damn. Rough day?” Sadiq leaned on the bar. Both him and Lovino had their full attention on him. Francis really didn’t care anymore. What was the point of anything anymore?

“Rough week.” Francis motioned to get another drink. He never really drank straight vodka, but he’d make an exception tonight. The burning in his mouth brought back some feeling to his life. 

“We’re all ears, Francis, no need to hold back on us.” Sadiq crossed his arms. “Who was the target this time?” Both Sadiq and Lovino was aware of his profession, having met here in this bar quite often. Usually, their other friend, a man named Antonio, would be out drinking with them as well, but he was currently on his way back from a job. Sadiq was taller than all of them, had short brown hair and one robotic eye, as well as the owner of the bar. He often wore long robes and baggy pants in bright colours. A scruffy beard adorned his jaw. Lovino on the other hand, was shorter than Francis, but had longer hair than Sadiq, brown as well. He looked a bit untrustworthy, with a devious glint in his eyes and layers of worn clothing and a red handkerchief around his neck, almost similar to the one Alfred had worn. 

“Arthur Kirkland.” The name tasted bitter on his tongue and Francis was left staring down into his full cup. A short pause, and he swallowed that liquid as well. 

“The name sounds familiar.” Sadiq rubbed his chin. “Was he a gunslinger?”

“Non, il est un pirate. He is the captain.” Francis could feel the burning spreading throughout his body now.

“Yeah, now I remember! I think I’ve seen his wanted poster somewhere. He’s been causing some serious trouble for people high up.” Sadiq snickered. “Almost sad to see him go. Oh well, it would have happened sooner or later anyway. Glad you’re the one to get paid for it though, Francis.”

“But that still doesn’t explain his face, idiot.” Lovino appeared vary. As if he could sense something was wrong. Or it might be his cautious nature when it came to these things.

“He isn’t dead.” The statement earned a surprised silence from the two men. Francis pushed his glass forth again. “Another, s’il te plait.” 

“What do you mean he isn’t dead? Francis, what happened?” Sadiq still filled his glass while talking. He knew Francis had money and would pay, and that was more he could say for others in that bar. 

“I-I couldn’t do it.” Francis swallowed and felt tears rolling down his cheeks once again that day. With a shaking hand he brought the glass to his lips and swallowed. 

“I guess there’s a first time for everything then.” Sadiq rubbed his chin in thought. “He must be pretty damned special this pirate. Not to mention good, if he managed to get away from you.” 

“Arthur is… quite special.” 

“Hang on.” Lovino lifted an eyebrow while he stared with sceptic at Francis. “Why weren’t you able to kill him?”

“I-I didn’t kill Arthur because…” Francis gulped. “Because I love him.” 

“Oh, shit.” Both Sadiq and Lovino were left staring blankly at Francis taking another glass of vodka straight down. Lovino continued carefully.

“So… you just left?”

“I had intended to stay with him. But. They-they found the contract. And so, he let me go.” Francis let his head fall to the bar. “I’d rather he should have killed me. Death would be better than this.” 

“Hey, it’s not the end of the world, Francis.” Sadiq tried his best to cheer up the man. “Why not go after him and explain? If he didn’t kill you, he must at least not hate you entirely.”

“There’s no use. You didn’t see the look on their faces. His face. I can never show myself in front of them again.” 

“Hey, get your face up from the bar.” Lovino smacked his shoulder. “You’re going to make that metal face of yours rust if you keep crying like this.” 

“Quel est le point?” 

“Oh, come on! Maybe you’ll meet again some other time, by chance, and then he probably can’t wait to take you back with him. Cheer up! Anything could happen.” Lovino hit his arms out to the sides. “Think positive.” 

This seemed to do nothing as Francis downed another glass of vodka. 

“If I think about him, my heart hurts.”

“Quit being so dramatic, bastard! I’m pretty sure that’s the vodka.” Lovino was halfway out of his chair when the front door flung open and captured their attention. Two heavy set men walked in and once they saw Francis, went straight over to him. Francis was sprawled over the bar at this point, the alcohol almost too much for him, and the world spinning. One of the men put a hand on Francis’ shoulder before he spoke.

“Francis Bonnefoy, you need to come with us.”

“Hey, hey, leave the man alone, can’t you see he is in no condition to go anywhere?” Sadiq straightened up in a threatening manner behind the bar. Lovino just sunk back into his seat and tried to avoid drawing any attention to himself. 

“We represent his employer, who wants to speak with him. Now.” 

“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Sadiq leaned forward. 

“No, it can’t.” The other man whipped out a gun from the jacket he was wearing and pointed it straight at Sadiq’s head. The first man took a tight grip around Francis’ arm and practically dragged him out of the chair while he swore. 

“Let’s go, Bonnefoy. You have some explaining to do.” 

And so, the two men left the bar, dragging Francis along with them, leaving behind a group of bewildered and confused people. Francis was so out of it that he barely registered that he suddenly was in an entirely different area of the city. The buildings were newer and looked both cleaner and more expensive. His arm hurt from where he was being held, and the world still kept spinning. Finally, they reached their destination and Francis recognized the stone façade of the big house. This could not end well.

Francis was almost carried through the tall wooden doors and into the hall with stairs leading up to the second floor, before they entered the first door to the left. The room they came into was rectangular and had a fireplace at the very end. There were a matching pair of armchairs along with a coffee table in the middle of the room, as well as a taller armchair draped in red cloth by the fire. In that chair sat his employer. Francis was thrown down on all four in front of the armchair. The alcohol made it quite difficult for him to even get up on his knees. 

“The word travels fast, Mr. Bonnefoy.” Her voice was calm and carefree at the moment. “You really didn’t think that you could step foot in this city without me knowing about it? You didn’t think, that you could just not finish your assignment and expect no consequences at all?” 

“Just… have someone else do it. I won’t.” Francis rubbed his face as he looked up at the woman in front of him. She was dressed in a long, red dress and her long, brown hair was tied up in a ponytail on the back of her head. 

“I don’t think you understand my position, Bonnefoy. As the owner of Avalon Company, it is my responsibility to make sure my business is running the way it should. And I can’t do that with a pirate that steals every other shipment that I make. I need him dead. I wanted his head served to me on a plate. That’s why I hired you, Mr. Bonnefoy. Because everyone says you’re the best. What do you think happens when the best assassin there is, can’t finish a mission? That means no one else is up for the task either.”

“Then, just let him go.” Francis mumbled.

“I can’t do that, and you know it. This time I’m going after him myself. If cunning isn’t going to break him, I will have to use brute force. I will go after him in a battleship I recently acquired just for this occasion, and then I will crush him myself.”

“And how will you even find him?” Francis felt a cold feeling creep up on him. 

“Well, I’ll have you tell me his location of course.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know where he is.” Francis hoped she would buy into the lie, but he knew she wasn’t one to be easily fooled. And quite right.

“I don’t believe you, Bonnefoy. I know you are better than that. A whole week onboard Kirkland’s ship, and you learn nothing of value? Pardon me, but I find that hard to believe.” 

“I have nothing to tell you, madam.” Francis was not prepared for the kick that then hit him straight in his face. He slumped over on the floor again just from the force of it. It stung like hell. 

“Are you protecting the pirate, Bonnefoy? Now, why are you doing that?” The woman rose from her chair and stood in front of the kneeling man. “Could it be that you have banded together with the pirates to get your share of the spoils? Is that it? You don’t kill him, and in return he gives you a part of the cargo? My cargo?” The woman turned over and grabbed hold of a fire iron lying in the flames and picked it up. “I don’t take kindly to betrayal, Mr. Bonnefoy. You will tell me where he is.” 

“I-I don’t know.” Francis swallowed hard, sweat forming on his forehead. 

“Too bad. For you.” The woman gave a sad smile. Then, she stabbed the fire iron forth and into Francis’ right hand, nailing it to the floor. A horrifying shriek escaped him and rang throughout the building. The pain was so intense that tears left Francis’ eyes and fell onto the carpet. The woman removed the iron and held it up to his throat, burning the tips of his hair at the same time. 

“How about now?”

“N-no. Don’t-”

The woman flicked her hand so that the fire iron became pressed against Francis’ throat, scolding the soft skin and causing excruciating pain. He screamed out in agony once more, trying to move away from the glowing object. Almost crying in relief when she stopped. 

“You get one more chance, or I’m shoving this thing through your chest next.”

“A-all right, I-I give in.” Francis buried his head in his hands down on the floor, gripping his hair to cope with the pain. “H-he’s going to attack your shipment between Lenzing and Carbet within the next days.”

“Wonderful.” The woman smiled. She laid the fire iron back down into the flames and turned to the two men that had escorted Francis there. “Make sure my ship is ready to depart. I want everything stocked and armed.” Then, she turned back to Francis. “And you, Mr. Bonnefoy, are going to come with us.” With a motion of her hand, she signalled the men to take him away.

“Is there anything else, Madam Morton?” The first man spoke as he grabbed a hold of Francis arm again, the one he wasn’t clutching to his chest. 

“No, that is all. Prepare to set sail tomorrow morning.”

The last thing Francis saw before he was hauled out of the room, was Madam Morton’s dark silhouette in front of the smouldering fire, casting an orange glow to the area. Francis was escorted out of the house again, and down the street. It felt like forever, partly walking and partly being dragged across the cobblestones through the darkness. At long last, they reached the main docks of the city. The men led Francis up a gangway to one of the larger ship at bay. The vessel was much bigger than Arthur’s stealthy pirate ship, but one similarity Francis soon discovered was that they both had a cell to keep prisoners. 

The two men just dumped Francis on the floor of the cell before they locked the door shut and left the room. Francis didn’t even bother to get up. A small porthole cast down a pale beam of light from the moon outside. As he lay there, he could hear several people working on the levels above him, moving crates and making the ship ready for departure. This had been a long day for Francis. It didn’t seem long ago that he awoke in Arthur’s bed and was as happy as he’d ever been. He went from there to being hated by the people he loved and being tortured by his former employer. And now he was lying on the floorboards of a ship that was going to hunt down and kill the person he loved. Francis’ hand throbbed with pain. The fire iron had gone straight through and most probably broken a few bones. It hurt to even move it – if he even could at this point, and he tried to be as still as possible. Fortunately, due to the heat of the iron, the wound didn’t bleed as it was burned shut. On his throat he had developed a large scar, which still stung, although not as bad as his hand. It all felt like a fitting punishment. Not for failing to kill Arthur, as Madam Morton had intended it to be, but for failing Arthur. A punishment for his stupidity. Francis should have just told Arthur the truth when he first began developing feelings for him, maybe then all of this could have been avoided. And in the end, it didn’t really matter at all; now Madam Morton was going to kill Arthur anyway and there was nothing he could do about it. Only watch. He was a terrible person. Francis felt sick. He didn’t know if it was the vodka that finally decided to act up, or something else. Nevertheless, it all ended with Francis vomiting in a corner of the cell and shedding silent tears as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed, but in this story I didn't want any of the nations to be the "bad guys", so both John Smith and Madam Morton are original characters.


	9. Surrender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They reach the pirate's ship.

The next morning Francis awoke to the ship’s movement. As he staggered up to the single porthole, he could see that they were about to leave the docks. The roof on the large building was wide open to let the ship fly straight up into the airspace. From what Francis could tell, the sun was beaming and there was only a few, but big, clouds on the sky. After a few more minutes, and the ship clearing the docks, Francis could see the city slowly disappear behind it. Then, his stomach growled. That’s when he remembered that he hadn’t eaten for quite some days now, which could explain how fatigued he had been feeling. It was also hard to think straight when he was hungry. He really hoped they were going to give him some food soon. 

Francis sat down on the floorboards again and raised his uninjured hand to feel the left side of his face. The metal provided an unfamiliar sensation and still felt weird on his face. Francis didn’t even know what it looked like because he hadn’t had an opportunity to look at himself in a mirror yet. Gilbert must have fixed him up after he had been injured during the storm. Arthur probably had a biomechanical leg now as well if Gilbert had had the time to work on him. He doubted that he had been the first priority. Still, they had healed him up and then sent him on his way without even harming him in some way. That was more than he could’ve ever hoped for. 

The door opened up and Madam Morton strode inside with one of the men who had brought Francis there by her side. In her hand she carried a tray with some food and a cup of water on it. She stopped in front of the cell door. 

“How are you doing, Mr. Bonnefoy? I am terribly sorry about your confinements, but I’m sure you understand that I have to take the necessary precautions to ensure that you cannot get away and warn your pirate friends. That would be careless of me.”

“I’m afraid you’re mistaken, madam; I’m not working with them.”

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t believe that you failed to kill a mere pirate. Not to mentioned that you didn’t come straight to me after you returned to the city, is suspicious to say the least. Now, I have been so kind as to bring you some food, but I expect something in return.”

“What? Are you not simply going to stick toothpicks under my fingernails? Seems like that would be the next step.”

“I want information, Francis. And you are going to give it to me. How many are they? What are their tactics? Their weaknesses? I want to know everything of use.”

“I don’t even know for sure that they’ll be there. They probably won’t.”

“Oh? How so?” Madam Morton raised a keen eyebrow in curiosity. Francis sighed.

“There was a mutiny right before I left, almost all of the crew fled the ship. I don’t think it’s worth it to go after the ship now. They don’t pose any threat to you now.” When Francis said that, he thought he could get Madam Morton to reconsider her attack, however, it seemed to have the quite opposite effect. 

“Wonderful! They are probably fewer in numbers now and still weakened after the mutiny. This is just the opportunity I was hoping for. And when you say they won’t attack, you probably just say that to make me turn around and go back home. Oh no, you are mistaken, Francis; I don’t give up so easily. A pirate doesn’t stop robbing people just because they have lost a few men. It’s not in their savage nature. And if you leave them unattended for too long, they will just build another band and continue. Trust me; you’ll have to strike when they’re down.” 

Francis grumbled. He should have kept his mouth shut. Fortunately, she didn’t know that there were only three people on the ship, and if they had any common sense whatsoever, Arthur and Gilbert would think twice before robbing a shipment in their current state. His only hope now was that they had called off their plans. 

“You told me exactly what I wanted to know, Mr. Bonnefoy. Thank you for your cooperation.” She flung the tray down on the floor in front of the bars and turned on her heel. “I believe we will reach or destination later this evening, so be ready.”

Ready for what? Francis thought for himself as Madam Morton and the other man exited the room. When the door closed behind them, Francis got down on his knees and picked up the food they had brought him. It felt very bittersweet easting it, as he knew what he had said would not turn out in favour for Arthur and the others. And yet, with his extreme hunger at this point, the taste of food was sorely longed for. It wasn’t much, but it stilled the growling from his stomach and the water clenched his thirst. Now, he really felt how weak his body had become after days of not eating at all. 

After he finished his meal, the only thing he could do was wait. Francis placed himself by the porthole and studied the scenery that passed as they flew over the landscape. He intently wished that he had had a set of clean clothes with him. The clothes he was wearing he had worn since he left the pirate ship. They had been dirtied, scratched, and even had spots of blood on them. On top of that, his hand and throat were still throbbing. Just the overall state of himself made Francis feel terrible. He felt like a failure. He had been no good for anyone lately. He had failed at his job, failed his friends, and even failed himself. And now, there was nothing he could do anymore. Who even knew what Madam Morton was going to do with him? Francis could do nothing more than accept his fate at this point. Anything else seemed futile and a poor attempt at avoiding the inevitable. 

The hours dragged on in silence. At some point Francis grew tired of looking out the porthole, and gradually slumped down on the wooden boards and fell into an uneasy sleep. When he woke up, he didn’t know how much time had passed. Deeming by the light outside, it had only been a few hours. Judging by the height of the sun, it had to be around four or five in the afternoon. Eventually, getting something to eat and drink as well as some sleep had made Francis a bit more alert to his surroundings. He felt stronger and more rested. Maybe everything wasn’t lost just yet. However, he was about to be proven wrong. 

Suddenly, the ship began rapid decent. Francis grabbed hold of the bars to keep himself in one place during the drop. His heart was up in his throat. Had they been shot down? Was something wrong with the ship? When the ship straightened out again, Francis could hear a loud boom. The sound did not come from this vessel, which meant that some other ship must have fired it. Francis rushed over to the porthole. Had they caught up with Arthur’s ship already? To Francis’ disappointment, it would seem he was on the wrong side of the ship and could see nothing but the grey and rocky landscape surrounding them. As another boom came, from this ship this time, the door to the cell room was torn open behind him and instantly captured Francis’ attention. 

Madam Morton looked slightly dishevelled, and with a raging look on her face. She stormed over to the bars, with a key in one hand and a pistol in the other. Quickly, she unlocked the cell door before she grabbed a pair of handcuffs hanging on the wall as she discarded the key on the floor. 

“Step this way please, Mr. Bonnefoy.” Madam Morton tried to appear calm, but Francis could tell she was obviously stressed. It would not be wise to oppose her in this state, he reasoned. So, Francis did as she commanded, and was swiftly put in the cuffs, which had a chain linking them together. By that chain, Madam Morton dragged him after her through the door. Francis was hauled up the many stairs and out onto the large deck. The light from the evening sun blinded him for a second as he was pushed to his knees. The sun was beaming from behind a huge vessel to the left of this ship, which Francis was facing. The ship appeared as a huge, pitch-black shadow in the sky. As Francis blinked to get the sun out of his eyes, he heard the click of a pistol by his left ear. A cold pit settled in his stomach as he swallowed hard. Then, the Madam shouted, and his attention became directed at the other ship. 

“Your plan didn’t work, Captain Kirkland! I have captured this traitorous rat of a man and made him work against you! There is no doubt that Mr. Bonnefoy here, is working for you at this point! I suppose you must pay better than I did!” She cracked a smile. “Now, surrender to me, and I won’t kill him! We can see by now that we vastly outnumber you and will surely crush you before the hour is over! But I am not without mercy! Surrender to me as the captain, and I will leave the rest of your crew alone!”

Francis felt his heart beat fast in his chest. He was surely going to die today. There was no possibility that Arthur would trade his own life for his at this point. The pirate ship was fast. Probably faster than this one. If Madam Morton’s ship had not been so far above and hiding in the clouds, Francis doubted that the pirates would have even taken a single shot. If they moved fast, they might be able to get away. Francis closed his eyes and bowed his head down. His long locks of hair, where the shiny colour now had faded, fell forward to frame his face. They were in disarray and greasy. Francis considered himself not to particularly be a sight to behold at the moment. He was disturbed from his thoughts by a loud thud on the deck in front of him. Francis almost didn’t dare raise his head. But when he did, his eyes fell upon a dark silhouette standing in a wide stance just a few metres away from him. The sun’s beams all wrapped around the figure, embracing him. When Francis could make out Arthur’s face, he shed a single tear. Arthur didn’t look at him but stared straight at Madam Morton standing by his left.

“All right. I surrender.” Arthur’s face was a mask of stone, not unlike how he had appeared back when he had forced Francis to leave. His hands were raised so they were at the same height as his head, showing no hostility. Within moments, he was surrounded by men pointing their guns at him. Madam Morton forced Francis up to his feet again, before she spoke with a huge grin on her face.

“Wonderful. I knew you’d come around.” She then turned to her men. “You two! Take both of them back down into the cell! The rest of you; get this ship repaired and moving!” 

One of the men shoved his gun into Francis back and caused him to stumble forward. Arthur got the same treatment just behind him as Francis proceeded to walk towards the same door he had come out of just a few moments earlier. The four of them went down the sets of stairs again and ended up back in the room with the cell. The two men forced them inside and locked before they walked back out of the room and closed the door. The silence was crushing and tense. Francis was too ashamed to even lift his eyes from the floor. He still had the shackles around his wrists. 

“Arthur… I’m sorry. I never intended for this to happen.” He clenched his teeth. “I never should have taken that job. This is all my fault.”

“You look like shit, Francis.”

“What?”

Arthur slumped down on the wooden boards right below the porthole and sat back against the wall. He closed his eyes. 

“Get it together, will you?”

Francis could feel anger begin to seep into his body. Where there before had been crushing sadness, became replaced by a smouldering rage. Arthur had no right to speak to him like that. Not after what he had been through. Hadn’t he suffered enough now? He even tried to apologize to him and this was the answer he got?

“That’s the only thing you can think to say to me right now?! Don’t you dare. You have no idea what I’ve been through! I drank myself half to death, got kidnapped, tortured – all without a single break, and then sent to spend my miserable life alone in this cell. So, I’m sorry if I don’t seem to have it together to you. It’s because I don’t!”

Arthur pulled a face, sitting down on the floor, before he glared up. That was the most emotion Francis had seen him display at all in the last few days. 

“Have you tried finding out that someone you considered a close friend has been planning to kill you from the moment you met? Because that’s really helped me get it together!” Arthur clenched his fists. 

“I decided against it! You have no idea how many times I had the chance to end you. Times where I thought to myself: ‘this is the right moment to do it’, but then I couldn’t go through with it.”

“You’ve been lying to me the entire time we have known each other! Why the fuck should I believe anything you say to me now?”

“When you were dying, laying in a cell just like this, with your leg chopped off… I could have ‘accidentally’ killed you with ease, and no one would even know I had had anything to do with it. Just, held your foot low and loose so that all the blood would have drained from your body. But I didn’t. I helped you. I held you when Gilbert operated on you. I followed you up the stairs. I helped you fire at that damned first mate of yours.” Francis felt his lip quiver. “I didn’t have to do any of those things. I did it because I wanted to. And after everything I did, you still chose to send me away from you.” 

“It was… the right choice to take.” Arthur swallowed hard.

“Oh, fuck me! Since when have you ever cared about what was right and wrong?!” Francis slumped down on his knees in front of Arthur. “Although my intentions weren’t true in the beginning, all of what I have done for you, were purely because I really wanted to. Is that really worth nothing to you? Am I worth nothing to you?”

Arthur dropped his head and let out a shaky breath while he softly shook his head. Francis eyed a ray of hope at the end of the tunnel. Outside, the sun had already begun to set and the sky had grown darker. Arthur’s figure appeared smaller now than it had earlier. 

“What do you want from me, Francis?” He mumbled to low that Francis almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. 

“I want for nothing but a second chance.” Francis leaned forward on his unharmed hand. “A chance to do things differently. And I promise I will never lie to you again. I will never deceive you. And I will never leave you.”

Arthur lifted his gaze along with his head and their eyes met. Arthur’s green eyes were still doubtful, yet there was something forgiving in there somewhere, Francis was sure of it. Their faces were just a few decimetres apart as they continued to search each other for answers. Apparently, Arthur was satisfied as he closed his eyes and leant back against the wall with a content look before he cracked a smile. 

“Was the flirting real as well?”

Francis huffed and rolled his eyes, but still could keep the grin from forming on his own face.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Arthur snickered at the sarcastic tone in his voice, and Francis turned over to sit beside the pirate, shoulder to shoulder. He sighed. “I missed you, Arthur.”

“Likewise, git.” Arthur gave him a light shove in the shoulder. A comfortable silence settled over them. I the distance, they could barely make out the sounds of the crew working on fixing the damage the pirates had done to the ship. Then, Arthur decided to break the silence. “What happened to you, Francis?”

“Nothing I’m particularly proud of.” Francis pulled up his knees from the floor and close to his body. “How’s Peter and Gilbert doing?” Arthur thankfully recognized his attempt at changing the topic and indulged him. 

“They’re both fine. A tad anxious at the time perhaps. But nothing serious. Mostly shocked though. How did she even find us?”

“I’m sorry, but that was my fault.” Francis looked down at the wound on his right hand. It still ached. 

“What’s that?” Arthur caught Francis stare and grabbed his hand. Francis winced at the sudden pain that shot through his arm. Arthur’s eyes grew big as he studied the wound. “This really doesn’t look good. Can you even move your fingers?” 

“… some of them. I’m really sorry, but I honestly thought she would kill me if I didn’t say anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Arthur reluctantly let his hand go. 

“What exactly… happened during that storm? After I got knocked out.”

“Knocked out?” Arthur let out a sharp laugh in disbelief. “I’m afraid it was a bit more serious than that. You took a shot to the head. And that from a pretty big gun as well. I thought you were gone for sure. Your left side got smashed up really bad, you were lying on the deck and the blood was everywhere. I got Gilbert to take you inside my cabin while I took command over the ship. The storm lasted all night, and it was not easy. We almost got hit by lightning a few times, but fortunately there was some tall mountains nearby and I managed to steer us into safety there. So, we stayed there for the night, riding the storm out while Gilbert operated on us both.” Arthur took a pause to lift up his trousers on his right side. Where there had been several pieces of metal hurriedly welded together, there was now a complex and sturdy machinery, that even bended at the knee and looked like a real foot. The metal shone in the dim lightening. Francis was amazed. “I can even take it off at the base should I want to. Anyway, while we took care of you, we found your contract with an order to kill… me. Needless to say, all three of us were quite shocked. Gilbert almost wanted to throw you off the ship at once, but we decided against it. We spent the next day to make repairs on the ship where it had been damaged in the storm. As much as we could, anyway. And… nothing much really happened from there on, except, you know, expelling you and then being ambushed by a bloody aristocrat and forced to surrender.”

“No one forced you to surrender. In fact, I was absolutely sure you wouldn’t. Surely your ship could have outran this one?” Francis raised an eyebrow.

“Eh, well, the ship was still damaged and- you know- it was a long shot- couldn’t take the chance. Not like I had much of a choice.” Arthur stuttered over his words, and if it wasn’t for the darkness surrounding them, Francis could have sworn he saw a faint blush. 

“Right. And… what did Gilbert and Peter had to say about that?”

“Well, they weren’t exactly giddy about it. But I’m still the captain, and no one can tell me what to do.” Arthur smirked and Francis could feel the tingle in his stomach return along with the fast beating of his heart. His feelings for the man had not changed in these past days. Still, there was no possibility that Arthur felt the same for him. Even if he had previously, there was no way he still could now after he had lied him. But Francis was fine with that. He had gotten another chance, and that was already more than he could’ve hoped for. 

“Right.” Francis grinned. “And what’s your plan from here, Capitaine? Do you have some sort of magical escape plan from our imprisonment?”

“Oh, shut up. As if you have a plan of your own.”

“That may be true. But it is hard to make a plan without knowing what your captor intends to do with you. Actually, I surprised we’re both still alive. It didn’t sound as if Madam Morton was planning on having us around.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see. Whatever happens, I don’t intend to spend my last days in captivity. We’ll get out eventually.”

“Whatever you say, Capitaine.” Francis smiled to himself before he slid down the wall and laid down on the floorboards. It was already late, and they needed all the rest they could get. Beside him, Arthur was doing the same. Francis stomach took a jump as he felt the warmth of Arthur touching his shoulder. He really wanted to snuggled close to him and hold him tight but knew that could never happen. Instead, Francis thought of the pirate as he descended into a heavy sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go! Will they manage to escape?


	10. Avoiding death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! Will there be a happy ending for Francis?

            When Francis stirred awake the next morning, the air was cooler than it had been the day before. The first sign that winter was steadily approaching, however it would usually not snow at least before a month later. As Francis sat up he could see that Arthur was still asleep beside him. He was snoring lightly and Francis sighed. At that point, Francis stomach growled and he remembered that he hadn’t eaten in roughly twenty-four hours. Just the fact that Madam Morton hadn’t bothered to give them another meal indicated that she didn’t really want them alive. Which then again arose the question of why they still were. Perhaps she intended to send them to face the court, or even try to bribe them. Anything was possible. She obviously loathed Arthur for all the cargo he had stolen from her over the past years. Was it revenge she was after?

  
            As far as Francis could tell, the ship was already moving They must have stopped sometime during the night to rest and make repairs. With a quick peek out the lone porthole, Francis could barely spot the city they had come from in the distance. They were already over the large pine forest they had laid behind them the day before. They would be at the city in just over an hour by Francis’ estimations. So, he sat down on the floorboards beside the sleeping figure and waited. There wasn’t much that could be done.

  
            About half an hour later Arthur woke up as well. They were both a bit stiff after sleeping on the hard surface without anything but their clothes to protect them. Arthur didn’t have it any better due to his leg of metal, which was extremely uncomfortable sleeping with. But he didn’t dare take it off just in case someone came in while they were asleep in fear that they would take it away from him to preventing him from resisting. Right before they were about to dock in the city, Madam Morton came into the room with two of her men. Her red dress was still immaculate and she looked considerably less stressed than she had the day before.

  
            “Put Mr. Kirkland in chains as well, would you?” She addressed the men, who proceeded to open the cell and do as she had commanded. Arthur didn’t fight it, but still glared at them, his bushy eyebrows making him quite intimidating.

  
            While the ship was docking, Madam Morton led them all out of the cell and up onto the deck for all to behold. Some of the crew were busy with the docking, but many of them looked upon the prisoners with satisfaction and in some even hatred. Francis and Arthur appeared side by side right in the middle of the deck. The two men were standing behind them while Madam Morton stood at the front of them, facing away with her hands firmly placed on her hips. Francis looked terrible, his skin was pale and clammy and his hair was a mess, with grease and knots. Below his eyes he had dark circles, which were even more prominent out in the daylight. His nose looked too long and bony for his face and there was a bit of dried blood under it – probably from when Madam Morton had kicked him. Arthur looked a bit better though, he stood with a straight back and his head held high as he stared forward. He still had his wide brimmed hat on his head and the red coat fluttered from the gust of wind.

  
            When the ship was fully docked and the gangway put out, Madam Morton led the way down to the port. The workers there gave short nods of affirmation or even bowed as she strolled passed them, Francis and Arthur being forced forward right behind her. They continued through the building and finally out on the street. It was still early in the day, and there was a great amount of people outside going about their business. They all stopped up and looked upon as Madam Morton walked through the masses with her prisoners. Arthur was easily recognisable as a pirate and made some of the spectators gasp. Some even applauded or cheered. It was clear that outlaws didn’t have the best reputation in this city. Francis was just ashamed. This was all his fault and now they even were publicly humiliated. They meant nothing anymore. Appointed criminals, now with a face.

  
            After the walk they finally reached their destination, which turned out to be Madam Morton’s house, where Francis had been brought just two nights ago. However, this time, they weren’t shown into a luxurious room but instead led down a pair of stair to the basement. Francis wasn’t even surprised to discover that the Madam had something akin to a dungeon below her house. There was a small room where the walls were of the same stone used in the foundation of the house and chains were bolted into the floor by the walls. Which was where Francis and Arthur became tied up to before their captors disappeared out the thick metal door. As the door slammed shut, Arthur let out a sigh.

  
            “I should have recruited Yao and Ivan while I had the chance. Perhaps none of this would have happened.” He side-eyed Francis. “Although, it’s mostly your fault.”

  
            “I _have_ apologized!”

  
            “And yet, we’re still prisoners.”

  
            “I will fix this! I’ll get us out of this and then I will make everything up to you.” Francis crossed his arms and stuck his nose up.

  
            “Oh yeah? I’m still waiting for that plan of yours by the way.” Arthur raised an eyebrow and sat down on the floor. “And right now, our prospect isn’t looking so good.”

  
            “Why are you only complaining?! Can’t you try to think of something then? See how easy it.”

  
            “You’re the one who wanted to ‘fix’ this! And I don’t see a way out of this dungeon. Do you?”

  
            As Francis was about to shout a retort, the metal door swung open again. This time Madam Morton was alone when she entered. She had a triumphant smile on her face and her hair was flowing down her shoulders now. She stopped in the middle of the small room, a decent distance away so that none of the prisoners could reach her, but close enough that she had all their attention.

  
            “I have a proposition for you, Captain Kirkland.” She looked down at the pirate, who sat cross-legged on the stone floor. “You have caused me a great deal of stress these last years, but I am willing to let it all slide. You see, I’m a kind person like that. I’ll let it slide… _if_ you begin working for _me_. You’re good at what you do, I’ll admit to that. You’ll be a Captain on one of my ships and do exactly what I tell you to. If it’s to guard one of my cargo ships or rob some of my competitors’ ships. How does that sound to you?”

  
            “And what about him?” Arthur nodded towards Francis.

  
            “Of course I will keep him here as an insurance for your cooperation.”

  
            Arthur stared up at her with an undetermined look on his face. Francis began to worry that he actually considered it when he didn’t say anything after a few seconds had passed. Arthur couldn’t possibly ally with a monster such as Madam Morton? Working under her would surely be anything but pleasant. Although, he could understand if Arthur chose to take her up on her offer; it seemed as if it was the only way to get out of their current situation. Francis wouldn’t blame him if he did accept.

  
            “As if I would ever work below anyone.” Arthur glared at her. “Especially someone who _tortures_ my friends.” Francis felt his heart swell. Arthur considered him a _friend_. “So please; do go fuck yourself, mam. I refuse your offer.”

  
            They could both see as Madam Morton’s eyes turned darker and the smile left her face in the place of a frown. The seemingly pleasant lady from before became something more troublesome.

  
            “As you wish, Captain Kirkland. But believe me when I say that you will regret your decision. That was very stupid of you. Now, instead of letting you both live, I will have to dispose of you. If you are of no further use for me, I have no reason to let you live. Prepare to be executed in the evening.” And with that, she turned on her heel and exited the room. The heavy door slammed shut behind her and both the prisoners released the breath of air they had both been holding.

  
            “Arthur… why did you do that?” Francis supported his head with his uninjured hand and sighed. “That might have been your only way out of here. Now we’re both going to die.”

  
            “I’m not going to let someone like her dictate my life!”

  
            “Yes, because ‘no one tells _you_ what to do’, right?” Francis spoke with a mocking tone. “Can’t you at least _try_ to save yourself for once? You always say that you do these things for yourself, but that’s not true! You always sacrifice yourself for others. Peter, … me. It would have been better if I’d just been shot in the head yesterday, and you wouldn’t have to go through any of this.”

  
            “Oh, fuck off, Francis! Why don’t _you_ get your shit together and stop thinking that everything is hopeless and that we’re doomed anyway! Then maybe I won’t have to do the thinking for you as well! You know, for an _assassin_ , you’re pretty dim.”

  
            “Well, maybe if my life wasn’t so _extremely_ depressing, I would actually be able to think positive! But it hard to be optimistic when you’ve just had the worst two days in your entire life. So, don’t tell me to _get my shit together_.”

  
            “You think _you_ have it bad? My entire crew organized a mutiny on me, my ship almost got destroyed, the man I-I… _trusted_ turned out to be someone sent to kill me, and now I’m a prisoner about to be executed. I have _no_ crew, _no_ ship, the few friends I have in this world are anywhere but here, and I’m about to die. But at _least_ I don’t take advantage of people that trust me!”

  
            Francis had been about to shout a retort at Arthur, but that last comment left him stunned. He slowly closed his mouth and slunk back down onto the floor. Arthur wasn’t even looking at him anymore but glared down at nothing in particular. They were both exhausted. It had been a while since they had had anything to eat or drink now. That must have been affecting them both. Francis almost felt dizzy. If it was the argument or lack of sustenance that finally had taken their toll was uncertain. Nonetheless, suddenly it felt like the existence of everything suddenly was weighing down on him. He should probably drink some water at least. Francis struggled to get his feet under him so that he could go knock on the door and see if he could request a glass of water from anyone that could hear him. However, he didn’t get that far. After one step the world span around him and his lost focus of everything. Darkness enveloped him yet again.

  
            Francis awoke to something wet being splashed in his face. It came very sudden to him, so he shot his eyes up and gasped for air. To Francis’ astonishment, his head was lying on something soft and after blinking a bit and the world around him came into focus, he was able to tell that he was resting in Arthur’s lap. The pirate captain was likely the one to force him awake with that highly unimpressed look on his face that was staring down at him. Although, Francis thought he could see a trace of worry beneath that hard façade. He quickly sat up from that suddenly awkward position and scooted a few centimetres away from Arthur.

  
            “Sorry about that…” Francis rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. Arthur didn’t say anything to that, but Francis could hear him move about, and suddenly a plate was dropped in his lap.

  
            “They came in with some food while you were out.” Arthur placed a glass of water by his side. “Our last meal, they said.”

  
            “Aren’t we supposed to make requests?” Francis didn’t even try to lighten to mood. His voice sounded depressed even to him. Arthur only shrugged his shoulders.

  
            “They probably didn’t want to waste good food on someone who’s about to die anyway.”

  
            Francis hummed in reply and began biting at the food in front of him. The tough bread provided the energy he’d been missing and, like the day before, he instantly felt better after he'd finished the meal. The water he used to rinse it down cleared his head. He didn’t feel anger or even sadness anymore, he was just tired. There was some evident tension in the room, leaving an awkward mood surrounding the two men. They had argued only a few moments ago and the last words still spelled clearly in Francis’ head. Arthur was still bitter over his betrayal. There was the possibility that nothing he ever did could make up for that. Francis sat the plate down on the floor again as he sighed.

  
            “Arthur…”

  
            “I’m sorry.” Those words made Francis look up at the pirate in surprise. Arthur was staring down at the floor. “I think we were both exhausted and didn’t intend to take it that far.”

  
            “I think you’re right, the hunger was getting to me.” Francis smiled softly. “I apologize as well. It was never in my intentions to take advantage of you. And I still believe that was not what I did.”

  
            Arthur nodded slowly in understanding.

  
            “Are you all right?”

  
            “What? Do you worry about me?” Francis grinned.

  
            “I’d hate for you to die _before_ we get executed. Wouldn’t want to disappoint the huge crowd who wants to see your head roll.”

  
            “Are you saying I’m more popular than you?” Francis playfully raised an eyebrow. Arthur gave him a shove in the shoulder as he huffed.

  
            “Idiot.”

  
            They sat in that comfortable silence for a while again before Francis noticed that Arthur appeared a bit restless, like he was about to say something but then changed his mind. He thought it was better not to push, and sure enough; after a bit of waiting Arthur spoke up again.

  
            “Hey, about that day, before the mutiny happened… I would like to apologize if I came across as… cross that morning.” Arthur scratched the back of his head while he looked down at the floor. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I just… was a bit frustrated at the time.”

  
            “When are you _not_ frustrated?” Francis smiled warmly at his companion. “Arthur, really, there is nothing to apologize for, I didn’t even think anything of it.” Francis dragged a hand through his hair as he sighed. “You have no idea how much _you_ frustrate _me_. In fact, I-”

  
            Suddenly, the metal door opened one last time and they both instantly knew that this was it. The mood dropped once more, both of them growing silent. They stood up, bracing themselves for what was to come. The chains rattled as they moved. Two men came inside and unchained the prisoners from the room before they escorted them out. It was with heavy steps they ascended the stairs leading up to the ground floor. Neither of them said a word as they were led out of the house and down onto the street again. As they walked down the cobblestones, they could see that the amount of people around them increased as they closed in on what was the town square. Everyone was chatting excitingly and even children were running about beside them, probably eager to get a look at the infamous pirate and the assassin. When they walked out onto the square, they were suddenly surrounded by a whole crowd, waiting by the podium in the centre. Madam Morton hadn’t wasted time to announce the execution, that much was clear. She had probably already cashed in the reward for Captain Kirkland’s capture, and was nowhere to be seen. The two men had to walk in front and behind the prisoners to pave a path in the crowd for them. There was no escape now. Francis shuttered as he took the first step onto the podium. This was how it was going to end for him. Arthur and Francis were lined up together as a law enforcer stepped up on the stage in front of them. With him was the executioner and Francis felt chills run down his back as he caught sight of that black hood. His heart was beating like crazy. The law enforcer stood up straight and began reading from a piece of parchment he had carried with him.

  
            “We are here on this day to witness the execution of these two viscous criminals, who has done wrong against our peaceful society. Firstly, a Mr. Arthur Kirkland, an infamous pirate and outlaw, is convicted for numerous crimes, including these: piracy, assault, battery, robbery, theft, kidnapping, arson, conspiracy, breach of the peace, murder _and_ mass murder. He is sentenced to death by beheading.” The crowd cheered. “The second prisoner is Mr. Francis Bonnefoy, who currently has a residence in this city, a wealthy assassin. He will be convicted for these crimes: treason, aiding a criminal, assisting crime, conspiracy, and manslaughter. Mr. Bonnefoy will also be sentenced to death by beheading.” The man stepped to the side and let the executioner come forth. He had a large black hood covering up his face and carried an axe in his right hand. Forcefully, he grabbed a hold of Francis and led him up to the block at the centre of the stage. Francis was frozen with fear, but he could hear Arthur shout out behind him.

  
            “Hey! Wait! You can’t do this!” There was a shuffle, but Arthur was held back by the two men that had brought them here. Francis was forced to kneel by the executioner and lay his head on the block. This was it, Francis thought. This was the end. They were both going to die here this evening. The sun was about to set and the beams reflected in the metal of the axe raised above his head. Francis closed his eyes and waited. He could hear a swish, the crowd gasping, and then a sharp edge slicing into flesh. It was completely silent. And… he was still alive? Francis’ head was still attached to his body. He was quick to sit up and look at the scene in front of him with wide open eyes.

  
            The axe intended for his throat was currently lodged in the neck of the law enforcer, who lay on the ground with a pool of blood steadily growing larger beneath him. There was a second where everything seemed to stand still. The two men holding Arthur looked at the body with a stunned expression, as did Arthur. Then, all eyes shifted to the executioner, who casually stepped up and twisted the axe out of the lifeless man on the boards. He swung it around before he firmly grabbed it with both hands. The black hood fell back and revealed a head full of brown curls. Francis rose from his spot in shock.

  
            “ _Antonio_?” His friend turned his head to give him a wide grin before he focused on the other men again. At this point, the crowd had panicked, and people were running everywhere, some were fleeing the scene while others were surrounding the podium. Arthur was quick to catch on and used the opportunity to kick one of the men in the stomach with his biomechanical leg. That move opened up for him to get out of their hold. He quickly backed up to stand beside Antonio, his hands still chained together. That’s when a familiar voice sounded from the crowd.  

  
            “Hey! Careful with that leg! It’s still not properly tested yet!” Arthur and Francis turned to the voice, only to be greeted with a figure jumping up on the podium to join them. He brushed away his hood and the white hair along with blood red eyes weren’t hard to recognize. 

  
            “Gilbert! What the hell are you doing here?” Arthur yelled as Gilbert freed him from the chains. Antonio had already begun swinging his axe at the men charging them.

  
            “What does it look like? Rescuing you of course.” Gilbert wasted no time providing Arthur with a gun before heading over to Francis to rid him of the chains as well.

  
            Francis looked gratefully at Gilbert as he removed his chains. Arthur had already joined Antonio, shooting at the men coming for them. At the same time Gilbert gave Francis a sword, a bell began ringing a few streets down. Having lived in this city for a while, Francis knew well what that meant. He exchanged looks with Antonio, who was also familiar with that bell.

  
            “We have to hurry! Soon there will be watchmen everywhere” Francis used his left, uninjured hand to grip tighter around his sword. Gilbert lifted his cape to reveal two _very_ large guns in each of his hands. He shouted as he charged off the podium with a huge grin on his face. As he landed, he shot the two men closest to him before he turned around and yelled.

  
            “What are you waiting for then?!” His attention was quickly grabbed by one man who tried to attack him. The other three weren’t slow to follow suit. Both Antonio and Arthur landed perfectly. Only Francis stumbled. He could feel the dizziness from earlier returning and making his movements slower. Still, he managed to stab a man who tried to slice into him.

  
            They had cleared the crowd considerably now, and the few men that were left were all hesitating to come forth. That created the opening they had needed, and all four of them began sprinting down one of the smaller streets leading out of the town square. Antonio was leading on, because he knew these streets best, while the others followed.

  
            The sun had managed to set and the city was now dimly lit only by the few lampposts there. The darkness was slowly creeping up over the buildings, making it easier to slip away undetected. A mist was pulling in over the city as well, filling up the street as a dull blanket, as the group made their way further down town. Antonio made sure to pick the narrowest and emptiest alleys to avoid detection. They could hear loud shouts coming from the square several hundred metres behind them already, as well as from the other larger streets running parallel with the one they were currently in. The only other sound was their footsteps slapping against cobblestone and their heavy breaths. Occasionally they paused to let the watchmen run past them before they slipped out of their hiding place and continued down the street. Francis struggled to keep up with the others. The fatigue was getting to him and the only thing he wanted was to reach their destination and sleep for the rest of his life.

  
            “Antonio, where are you taking us?” Francis whispered as they scuttled down yet another alley.

  
            “You’ll see soon enough.” The reply was as vague as could be and told Francis nothing.

  
            The shouts and turmoil had quieted down around them and there was only silence that surrounded them now. It had grown completely dark and the watchmen had likely given up the search, only relaying on the usual street patrol. It was then Francis recognized their surroundings. He couldn’t help but give a content smile as Antonio led them all over the street and into an extremely familiar bar. When they were all inside, Antonio locked the door behind them and closed the curtains. A deep breath left the whole group now that they were finally safe. A sudden scream made them all jump up again and grab for their weapons. However, when they saw that the scream had come from a young boy running towards them, they relaxed. Francis smiled as Peter flung himself at Arthur and hugged him tight. Walking up right behind him came Sadiq and Lovino.

  
            “Francis! It’s good to see you all in one piece. I’m glad to see these two managed to snatch you up in time.” Sadiq grinned and gave Francis a heavy pat on his shoulder. He winked. “Wouldn’t want to lose a good paying costumer.”

  
            Francis had to laugh.

  
            “I’m glad to see you as well, Sadiq. Honestly, I thought I wasn’t going to see _anyone_ ever again.”

  
            Sadiq shook his head before he turned to the whole group.

  
            “Everyone, please take a seat and the food will be right with you.”

  
            They all did as commanded and filed in at the largest table, right at the centre of the room. Arthur had to physically remove Peter, who was still snivelling into his shirt, from himself before he sat down. They saved the head of the table for Sadiq, Antonio taking his right side along with Francis and Gilbert while Lovino took the left with Arthur and Peter. They were all worn out, but the mood was light and everyone sat there with a smile on their face. Arthur was the first to speak.

  
            “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the whole rescue operation, don’t get me wrong, but… who are you people?” Francis chuckled as Antonio answered the pirate’s question.

  
            “My name is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, that’s Lovino.” Lovino gave a nod. “And the man currently making us dinner is Sadiq, the owner of this bar. We’re all Francis’ friends.”

  
            “ _That_ I know.” Francis side-eyed Antonio, who gave him a playful shove. “But I _would_ like to know how you managed to team up with Gilbert and Peter? I didn’t know you two knew each other?”

  
            “We didn’t.” Gilbert spoke. “When Arthur was taken by Avalon, I decided that we should sail back here as soon as possible and try to take him back. We sailed through the night and got here early in the morning. It was only by coincidence that I decided to make a stop at this bar to try to gather some information. Both Peter and I were here when the news of your execution became public knowledge. I heard those three talk about it and the possibility of a rescue mission. At first, they tried to throw me out when I approached them, but then they figured out who I was. And that Arthur was my Captain. I still don’t believe Francis forgot to tell them about the awesome me, since they obviously knew about your connection, but I’ll let that slide for now.” Francis rolled his eyes. “So, we came up with this plan together. And I had Sadiq and Lovino watch Peter while we rescued you, but it wasn’t easy getting him to stay.”

  
            “I’m right here! And I could have helped!” Peter huffed and crossed his arms in defiance.

  
            “Sure you could, you little shit.” Gilbert flicked at Peter’s forehead.

  
            “And you’re an idiot, Gilbert!” Peter glared at him up at him while holding up his hands to block.

  
            “Well, I’m glad you’re safe.” Arthur ruffled Peter’s hair and the boy calmed down. Francis could feel his heart melting. “So, Francis, it is really true that you live in this city? I thought you weren’t telling the truth?”

  
            “I didn’t lie about everything, _cher_.” Francis stuck out his tongue. “Yes, I live here. Or used to, I suppose. It probably isn’t safe to go back to my apartment anymore. So, I suppose I should find some other place to live now. All my things were there…” Francis slumped his head.

  
            “Don’t worry about that.” Lovino grinned. “I would be a pretty bad thief if I didn’t manage to rob anyone.”

  
            “Do you mean…” Francis shot up.

  
            “Yeah, I got most of it, with the exception of furniture of course. We figured you probably wouldn’t be able to go back there without being captured again, so I paid the place a visit.” Lovino leaned over the table. “ _And_ for the right price, I might be willing to give it back to you.”

  
            “You scoundrel! You know you have all off my valuables!” Francis crossed his arms and sat back into the chair. Antonio laughed.

  
            “He is kidding, Francis. Lovino would never do that. Of course you’ll get everything back.” He gave Lovino a hard stare, leaving everyone to understand that he wasn’t really joking.

  
            “Yeah, Arthur, so when did we forgive Francis for all of his shit? Because I can’t remember having that conversation.” Gilbert glared over at his captain. “You had no business pulling that stunt you did back there.”

  
            “I agree, Gilbert. And I told him so.” Francis held his hands out to the side.

  
            “Oh _please_. Don’t come here with that shit.”

  
            “No, I am serious. He should have let me take that shot for you. It’s the least I could do at this point.”

  
            An uncomfortable silence filled the room. A few seconds went by before Arthur cleared his throat.

  
            “ _Francis_ , we’ve had this conversation. What’s done is done. We’re finished with that. Gilbert, back off. We’ll talk later.”

  
            Francis lifted a hand in understanding as he bowed his head. He was just _very_ tired right now. Gilbert nodded as well. They could save the arguing for a later time.

  
            “Could I get some water?” Francis’ mouth felt dry. Antonio stood up from his seat and went over to the sink behind the bar to fetch him some. Francis thanked him when he returned with a glass.

  
            “Oh yeah! Francis, what’s the deal with the new accessories?” Antonio pointed at his face and it honestly took Francis a few seconds to figure out what he was getting at. He raised a hand to feel his cheekbone.

  
            “Gilbert fixed me up after I got injured back on the ship a few days ago. He’s quite the mechanic.”

  
            “Really?!” Antonio lit up and leaned over to address Gilbert. “You can make biomechanics? That’s awesome! Have you made something else?”

  
            “Of course!” Gilbert shot out his chest and gave a smug grin. “I’m just that awesome. Arthur, give your leg.”

  
             “I’m not giving you my leg?!”

  
            “Technically it’s _my_ leg, _I_ made it. Now hand it over.” Gilbert reached out a hand and Arthur huffed before he reluctantly bent down and unscrewed his foot and then handed it over to the mechanic. Antonio just stared in wonder.

  
             “Wow. I didn’t know you only had one leg, Arthur. It looked so natural. And you made this, Gilbert?”

  
            “Yapp.” Gilbert proudly held the piece of metal in his hand.

  
            “Amazing.” Antonio’s green eyes sparkled in the light. “Can you make me something too? I always wanted to have something biomechanical but as an aeronaut I don’t always run into the most exciting adventures.” He rubbed the back of his head.

  
            “Trust me; there is nothing exciting about getting your leg chopped off.” Arthur deadpanned from across the table. At that point Sadiq walked back into the room again, holding a tray in both of his arms, filled to the edge with something that smelled delicious.

  
             “All feet off the table please.” Sadiq looked sternly at Gilbert, who gave the foot back to Arthur, and then began placing the plates down on the table. After he finished, he walked back out again and then returned with a bottle of champagne and a few glasses. “I think this occasion call for some celebrating.” He began pouring and handing out the glasses to everyone except Peter.

  
            “It’s not every time you avoid certain death.” Arthur raised his glass. Everyone followed suit.

  
            “To not getting your head chopped off.” Francis gave a nod. Arthur stared into his eyes.

  
            “To living.” They all tipped their glasses together before they took a sip. With that, they officially began their feast. The food Sadiq had put together had to be some of the best Francis had ever tasted. It was much better than anything he had eaten in weeks. He made sure to get down as much as he could before the others could beat him to it. The laughter hung light around the table even more so now when Sadiq had joined them. He could turn every conversation to the better. As the food diminished, their heads became lighter with alcohol, and they all became more content. At some point Peter ended up falling asleep in his chair, so Arthur carried him over to one of the benches by the wall and draped his coat over him before he returned to the conversation at the table.

  
            “With the mutiny, we need to assemble a new crew as soon as possible. I’m considering convincing Yao and Ivan to join us. They’d make a good investment and Ivan is already onboard the idea, so we only need to get through to Yao.”

  
            “Are you serious?! _Really_ , Arthur? Ivan?” Gilbert threw his hands up in the air. “I refuse! He’ll be a member of this crew over my dead body.”

  
            “Come on, Gilbert.” Francis chuckled. “He really wasn’t that bad. Rather nice actually.”

  
            “To _you_ maybe.” Gilbert glared at him. “Why don’t we take Antonio with us instead? At least we know he can fight and he’s a _nice_ person.”

  
            “Me?” Antonio perked up from the conversation he’d been leading with Sadiq and Lovino. All of their attention transferred over at the pirates.

  
            “Sure! Why not!” Gilbert gesticulated with his arms.

  
            “Hey! Hang on a minute, Gilbert.” Arthur rose from his seat to calm down the mechanic. “We don’t even know him. And he might not even want to become a pirate. It’s not something you just decide right on the spot.”

  
            “I can vouch for him.” Francis butted in from his spot beside Gilbert as he sipped his champagne with a smile. “Antonio is a good man and will definitely be of great help during a battle. You couldn’t ask for a better crewmember who’s already used to sailing. _And_ he has many contacts in the transporting business, which would provide valuable inside information about cargo ship.”

  
            They all watched in suspense as Arthur shifted his gaze between all three of them with his hands supporting himself on the table. It appeared that in the end, the pirate captain gave up finding another reason as he sighed and relaxed his shoulders.

  
            “ _Fine_. Antonio, would you like to join our small and miserable crew?” All eyes fixed on the man in question, awaiting a response. Honestly, Antonio seemed a bit shocked. He probably hadn’t been expecting this when he signed up to rescue his friend earlier that day. The man rubbed the back of his head while he smiled carefully at the group.

  
            “Well… I guess I always wanted to go on an adventure some day…”

  
            Gilbert cheered and punched up into the air in celebration. He leaned over Francis to give their newest member a hug and ruffled his hair with one arm while the other swung his glass. Antonio just laughed and let himself be manhandled. Arthur raised his half full glass in a toast.

  
            “To a growing crew!” They all clashed their glasses together in good spirit and drank together. As soon as they put their drinks down, both Sadiq and Lovino began pestering their friend, half complaining and half congratulating him. Gilbert joined in on their banter while Arthur rose from the table and went over to the bar. Francis saw this as an opportunity to have a word with the captain. Quietly, he slipped away from the commotion and saw in the corner of his eye that Gilbert had already claimed his seat at the table as he walked away. Francis suavely came to lean against the counter beside Arthur, who was pouring white wine into his glass from a bottle already standing prepared.

  
            “Will you pour one for me as well?” Francis kept his voice soft. They could talk without shouting to each other here, away from the ruckus at the table. Arthur didn’t answer but fetched another glass and began filling it. “So… you wouldn’t happen to have another vacant spot as a member of your crew, would you?” Arthur had finished pouring the wine but they were both still standing there without any sign of moving away. He glanced at Francis out of the corner of his eye as he took a sip from his glass.

  
            “Oh? Are you looking for a trade of profession?”

  
            “You could say that. There certainly is something… alluring about pirates.” Francis leaned closer. “You already said you would give me a second chance, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

  
            “And what do you have to offer?” Arthur raised an eyebrow at him. However, Francis could spot the small twitch in the corner of his mouth that indicated he was only testing him. Francis smirked as he picked up a strand of his long hair and began twirling it between his fingers.

  
            “You already know that I’m a man of _many_ talents.”

  
            “Including getting into trouble.” Arthur tipped his glass and leaned his elbows on the counter, getting more comfortable.

  
            “You _are_ trouble, _cher_.” Francis winked and Arthur blushed visibly. They were already a bit tipsy both of them. Arthur took another gulp and emptied the glass before he placed it down on the counter again.

  
            “You’re hired.” Arthur cracked a smile as Francis laughed. “ _But_. I have a condition first.”

  
            “Anything for you, _cher_.” Francis finished his own glass as well.

  
            “I want to employ you.”

  
            Francis almost choked on his wine and had to chough a few times before he could speak again.

  
            “H-hire me?”

  
            “Yes. You say you are a good assassin?”

  
            “… the best.”

  
            “Great. Then I want you to kill Madam Morton for me.” Arthur’s eyes hardened as he began pouring yet another glass of wine for himself. “She is stupid if she thinks I will let her get away with this.” He turned to stare at Francis. “Can you do that?”

  
            Francis felt his stomach tingle in anticipation. This energy surrounding them was electric. If there was one thing he could do, it was to plan a murder and execute it. If that was the only thing Arthur wanted of him, there was no way he could refuse. Not to mention that the woman was already at the top of his list over people he wanted dead. Francis smiled.

  
            “I’d be happy to.”

  
            “Hopefully you’ll finish _this one_ without messing it up.”

  
            “Hey! I have a success rate of one hundred percent. Minus _one_. And that one you should be happy about that.”

  
            “I count myself lucky.” Arthur raised his glass in a mocking toast. Francis grabbed for his arm with his right hand to playfully stop him but winced and had to pull back as the wound on his hand prevented him from doing much. Arthur noticed and out down his glass before he turned to face Francis. He carefully took Francis’ right in his own hands. He frowned.

  
            “We have to let Gilbert have a look at this. It doesn’t appear any better than it did before.”

  
            Francis almost didn’t register Arthur talking to him, all he could focus on was the man standing in front of him. Arthur’s hair was tousled and were standing out in all possible directions, the pale shirt clinging to his body due to the sweat. It was quite hot in the little bar now that Francis thought about it. The room was dimly lit by candles and lanterns, casting a dull shadow over their figures. Francis could feel his own body was near finished after what he’d been through these last days and he could need a good long rest after this. He took a chance and leaned forward to rest his head on Arthur’s shoulder, which made the other man go silent. Francis sighed.

  
            “I’m just tired…” After a short pause, Francis felt a hand move softly up his back and then Arthur pressed his own head against Francis’. Francis could swear he felt a small kiss against the back of his head and he leant closer into Arthur. He murmured into the shoulder.

  
            “Arthur… I will never give you a reason to send me away again. I promise.”

  
            “I know, Francis.” The reply was a soft whisper and made Francis shed a single tear onto Arthur’s shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally done with this story! I just could get away from this, and I already have a plan for a sequel where we follow the newly formed crew on new and exciting adventures.
> 
> Please leave a comment and tell me what you think!

**Author's Note:**

> I will post two chapters today beacuse this first one isn't very long, and then get one out each day or so since I've already finished the story.


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